


Don't Worry, I've Got You

by KaseyBeth



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is 24, Angst, College Modern AU, Coran is a Physics Professor, Depression, Drinking, Female pronouns for Pidge, Flashbacks, Galra technologies, Hang on tight, Hunk is 19, Hunk is with Shay, Keith has a tattoo?, Keith is 21, Keith is studying to be EMT, Keith what are you doing?, Keith's dad - Freeform, Lance is 18, Lance is 20, Langst, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Mutual Pinning, Need to reewatch Voltron, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Part of other seires with shallura, Past attempt, Pidge is 18, Pidge is ace, Scars, Shallura has own fic that i am working on, Shiro is 25, Shiro is good big bro, Shiro's mom - Freeform, Sickfic, Sorry for spelling and grammar, University, Voltron university, dark pasts, dark themes, getting drunk, i honestly have no idea what im doing, it will get better, keith and shiro are brothers, keith is 19, keith is gay, keith is sick, klance, lance is bi, lance is sick, lance is studying marine biology, please be careful while reading this, shallura - Freeform, this is going to get bumpy yall, will post soon, wtf is Brad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-24 20:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 68,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12019959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaseyBeth/pseuds/KaseyBeth
Summary: He didn’t like Lance. In fact, he was pretty sure he despised the guy… he was too nice. Too confident. It was off-putting. It was intimidating. The kiss had been a mistake. A huge fucking mistake. And yet, it was the only thing Keith could think about.First couple of chapters (1-4) are sickfics so please be warned. Also, please read the notes at the beginning of each chapter because I try to post warnings if neededLangst, Klance, slowburn, both POV. Still updating... I swear I'm still alive!





	1. There's A Storm Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a storm coming,

This was not how Keith Kogane wanted to spend his Monday night… well, technically, Tuesday morning. He groaned loudly as his stomach tightened, its remaining contents sloshing around viciously. He swallowed thickly, pressing his overheated forehead against the toilet bowl, letting the cool ceramic seep into the burning heat. He closed his eyes, willing his stomach to settle, willing the beating headache pounding behind his eyes to disperse, willing to feel better. He heard someone move behind him and felt a gentle hand on his neck then his forehead, sweeping his bangs away from his face.

“Jesus babe, you’re really sick,” Lance said softly, brushing Keith’s bangs back as the older boy threw up once more, grimacing slightly as the sound echoed loudly off the tiny bathroom walls. Keith groaned, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the shower door behind him. He felt sweat slide down his temple and ran a sleeve over his face roughly as his stomach turned again. He’d been in the bathroom since 12am, and judging by the clock that kept dinging on the wall in their bedroom, Keith had guessed that that had been a while ago.

To be honest, he wasn’t that surprised he was sick considering he worked in a Microbiology lab, messing with fungi and bacteria, and considering Pidge had been sick several weeks ago when they had studied for their upcoming History exam. It hadn’t been until this morning that he begun to feel lightheaded and nauseous, but it hadn’t been until this evening after forcing his tired aching body through yet another horrendous day of school and workouts, that he realized there was nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable.

Keith coughed again as something cool touched his face and he opened his eyes slightly to see the blurry image of Lance squatting in front of him, a hand pressed against his cheek. Lance bit his lip, worry and concern masking his tired features as his fingers connected with the unsettling warmth present beneath Keith’s bangs. The dim light illuminating from the flicking ceiling light highlighted the dark circles under Keith’s eyes and made his already too pale face seem paler. Keith closed his eyes again as the bathroom began to spin, and shifted to the floor, pressing his burning skin against the cold tile of the bathroom. He crossed his arms over his stomach protectively, hoping that lying horizontal would help ease the nausea plaguing his body. He heard his boyfriend sigh loudly and cracked his eyes open slightly to see the younger getting to his feet, one hand running through his hair nervously. Keith stifled a sickening burp as bile rose in his throat again, and clenched his teeth shut, swallowing several times. He closed his eyes again as Lance stood in the doorway, debating whether Keith would be okay alone for a few minutes. He decided he would.

“I’ll be right back, okay Mullet?” Lance said softly, biting his lip, waiting for Keith’s answer. Keith groaned in response. He just wanted to be left alone. He wanted to lie down. He wanted to feel better.

Lance sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck as he exited the small bathroom. He paused briefly in the doorway of the living room, waiting for his eyes to readjust to his surroundings before walking into the tiny kitchen. He squinted as he opened the fridge door, scanning over the pizza boxes and half gallon of milk before grabbing a half-finished bottle of water. He closed the door gently, and turned towards the counter, turning on his laptop and smirking as his mostly finished introduction greeted him. He’d been working on his 15-page essay that was due in two days when he heard Keith moving around in the bedroom. It wasn’t long after that that he had found Keith huddled in the bathroom, his body trying to rid whatever sickness that possessed him. Lance sighed loudly, he should have known something was off with him, but it was Keith after all. His boyfriend would deny any sickness or injury until he was practically dead or dying. A smile smirk crossed Lance’s face as the question how Shiro put up with his pain-in-the-ass little brother for almost 13 years, raced through his mind.

Lance set the water down on the counter and opened a blank email, shivering slightly as the cold air swept over his tired body. He had a lab practical at 8am, and considering it was nearing 4am, there was no way in hell Lance was going to leave Keith alone, especially since he only seemed to be getting worse. Not to mention, Lance was pretty sure that if he came home after his exam he’d find Keith dying because he tried to open a can of soup. The 21-year-old might be smart when it came to academics but he failed when it came to personal care or simple tasks.

Lance wiped his nose with the bottom of his shirt and ran a hand through his hair tiredly, thinking about the email he was about to send. He’d never missed a day of school before… well except that one day in September when Keith had gotten in a motorcycle accident, and even then, Lance had managed to finish his lecture exam before he left. Lanced sighed again and began typing:

_Professor Haggin,_

_This is Lance McClain from your Tuesday/ Thursday Aquatic Biology lecture. I had a concern about the 3 rd lab practical and, unfortunately, am unable to attend today’s lecture/ exam. My boyfriend, and yes, I know what you’re thinking, it’s the same boyfriend from last September’s motorcycle accident, has been up all night with a nasty stomach bug. Considering his brother is out of town, this means I’m the only one who can look after him. Please let me know if I can reschedule a time/ day to take the exam. I understand if I am unable to do so, and will take the posted grade. See you Thursday._

_Lance McClain_

_2 nd year student_

Lance groaned loudly as he hit send, slamming his laptop shut. His biology professor was pretty cool, and considering she was the same professor as last year, Lance knew she most likely wouldn’t have a problem with a reschedule. At least biology was the only class he had later today.

Lance grabbed the water perched on the counter and walked towards the bathroom, flicking the kitchen light off gently. He cursed quietly as his pinky toe met the edge of the coffee table sitting in the middle of the room, stumbling softly. He did that every time, without fail. Keith always joked that it was embedded in his brain so now it was inevitable. Lance winced as he bent down to check his foot blindly, making sure nothing was broken, before walking back into the pale gray bathroom. Lance frowned as his eyes met the shaking form of his boyfriend and turned towards the sink, grabbing a small washrag from the cabinet, wetting it slightly.

Keith was huddled against the ground, his eyes clenched tightly together, his cheek pressed against the icy ground beneath him. The floor spun beneath him and Keith groaned as sickening hiccups escaped his raw throat, burning his esophagus and leaving an acidic taste in the back of his mouth. He’d never felt this nauseous before, at least, not that he could remember. He flinched as something wet touched his forehead and opened his eyes slowly to see Lance smiling softly down at him, a wet cloth clasped in his hand.

Lance pressed the cloth against his boyfriend’s forehead once more, carding his fingers though Keith’s sweaty hair. He had been surprised to find him still on the floor considering Keith had a thing about germs. Keith pushed himself off the floor shakily, pressing his sweaty back against the shower door, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Sorry,” he whispered softly, wincing as the words scraped against his throat. He coughed roughly, covering his mouth with his sleeve, and turned back to look at Lance. His head swam from the harsh movement and Keith rested his head against the glass door, blinking several times, trying to clear his vision.

“How do you feel?” Lance asked softly, reaching for the bottle of water sitting on the ground. He shook it in front of the elder, hoping Keith would be willing to take a drink. Keith shook his head, and pushed the extended hand away. Water was the last thing he needed right now. He looked back down at the old hoodie he was currently wearing. He couldn’t remember if it belonged to him, or Lance, or Shiro, but he liked it; it was warm and safe and comforting.

“I’m sorry I got sick, Lance. I’m fine now, babe. You can go back to bed,” Keith felt his face heat up with embarrassment as his eyes connected with Lance’s. He wasn’t normally like this, in fact, he was the complete opposite of this. He wasn’t weak, he wasn’t a child, and the fact that having someone else taking care of him made him feel vulnerable, caused Keith’s skin to crawl. He knew Lance would never judge him if he asked for help, just like he knew his boyfriend would never change his opinion of him if Keith showed weakness, but Keith didn’t want to. He needed to act strong, he needed to be strong, for Lance; no matter how shitty he felt. Confusion crossed Lance’s face momentarily, “I-I’m not leaving you, Kogane…”

           

……………………………………………..

 

Lance glanced over at Keith, strewn out on the other side of the bed, bundled under several blankets, his left foot and arm hanging dangerously off the side of the bed. Lance snorted. Keith always complained about getting hot in the middle of the night whereas Lance was always cold, so he was usually the one with all the blankets. Lance grabbed his phone from the bedside table and opened his camera, snapping a quick picture, setting it as Keith’s contact.

“Adorable,” He whispered softly, setting his phone on his leg and turning back to face Keith. Keith was an absolute mess; his hair was sticking up in every different direction as sweat trickled alongside the bangs plastered to his pale face. Pink hues were painted across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose; dark bags present under his closed eyes. On top of that, he was also drooling. Lance smirked slightly as he grabbed the almost empty bottle of NyQuil resting on the nightstand, deciding Keith would be a perfect candidate for Vick’s next commercial. He skimmed over the directions and symptom as his phone buzzed against his leg. Lance set the bottle down and glanced at the tiny screen, focusing on the text message.

 **Hunk-A-Lunk:** Hey dude, wht did u get for #34? For the Calculus review?

Lance groaned loudly. He’d been working on his essay after he’d managed to wrestle Keith into bed and convince him he didn’t need twenty blankets, all while trying to force as much water as the boy would take down his throat. Lance ran a hand over his face. He’d been so preoccupied with Keith, that he had forgotten about the Calculus homework due Wednesday. At least Keith was good with math, so maybe if he was feeling better by tonight, he’d be able to help. Lance sneezed softly, wiping his nose with his sleeve. 

 **Lancelot:** I haven’t done it yet. Keith is sick.

 **Hunk-A-Lunk:** Rlly? Is he ok?

 **Lancelot:** Yeah, kept throwing up earlier but he downed ½ bottle of NyQuil- he’s OUT.

 **Hunk-A-Lunk:** :) Thts good. Hope he feels better soon.

 **Pidgeroni:** Keith is sick?

 **Lancelot:** Look who decided to join the group. Noisy.

 **Pidgeroni:** Fuck you Lance, I’ve been busy. How’s Keith?

 **Lancelot:** Joking Pidgeon, damn. He’ll b fine. Wht are u guys still doing up? It’s 5am.

 **Hunk-A-Lunk:** Studying with Shay.

 **Pidgeroni:** Programming. Drank WAY too much caffeine, been up for 3 days.

 **Lancelot:** Don’t tell Shiro tht! Hunk, can u grab my homework later 2day?

 **Hunk-A-Lunk:** Sure thing, man!

 **Pidgeroni:** Tht reminds me, Shiro is back in town. They got back last nite.

 **Lancelot:** Cool. Thanks.

Keith coughed loudly, pulling the covers closer to his chin, shifting towards his stomach, stretching his left arm towards Lance. Lance glanced over at Keith, pushing himself off the bed slightly to get a better look at his boyfriend, now buried under a mountain of blankets. He pressed his hand against Keith’s forehead gently, sighing as his fingers connected with the still present uncomfortable warmth. He ran a hand through Keith’s tangled hair, his eyes tracing the muscles in his shoulder blades and arms. Lance sighed and ran his fingers over the faint burn marks etched across Keith’s left hand, tracing the small scars present on the pale flesh, biting his lip as Keith’s words echoed in his mind: _It happened when I was 11…I don’t remember much… just blood… and red…_

Lance breathed deeply, realizing his boyfriend was still asleep, and spread out on his side of the bed, flipping the table lamp off softly. He reached once more for his phone lying on the nightstand, flicking the small device on, squinting as bright light covered his face.   

 **Lancelot:** Turning in. Sending pic of Keith…

 **Pidgeroni:** …

 **Pidgeroni:**   XD

 **Pidgeroni:** He is SO going to kill u 4 this pic. Going online, hello Twitter.

 **Hunk-A-Lunk:** Ur going 2 b in so much trouble when Keith finds out.

 **Lancelot:** Pst, please. I’m nvr in trouble. Nite!

 

…………………………………………….

 

It happened so fast. Keith groaned loudly as he opened his eyes to the dimly lit bedroom, squinting as the pale sunlight bled past the opened blinds. He blinked a few times as his vision finally focused on the old ceiling fan squeaking above them, and coughed roughly as cold air swept over the uncomfortable heat enveloping his aching body. He laid there for a second, listening to Lance snore softly next to him as nausea plagued his body. He groaned again as his body went numb, warmth spreading over his body like wildfire. He was going to throw up.

Keith tried moving his fingers to grasp onto the rough fabric that laid heavily on top of his overheating frame but his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. He felt oddly detached from his body; the sun that peered passed the window portrayed the room in an off-kilter and shiny vibrancy that made Keith’s head ache. His head pounded with every tick from the clock on the wall, and his stomach twisted tightly. He coughed, wincing as the rough air pushed past his dry throat. He needed to move. He needed to get up. But his body wouldn’t cooperate.

He whimpered as bile rushed up his throat and cramps set in, squeezing his rebelling stomach, making it painful to breath. He swallowed compulsively as he tried pushing himself off the bed, cursing his trembling arms for not being able to support him when he needed them most. He slammed against Lance’s chest harshly as his fevered body began to tremble from effort, an acidic taste filling his mouth as wet hiccups escaped his lips. He tried swallowing but his stomach protested loudly as vomit flooded his mouth, spewing past his cracked lips. He shut his eyes as his tired body gave up, unable to push himself away from Lance as his stomach lurched.

Lance bolted up, Keith’s burning body pressed against his, violently forced into a sitting position as Lance suddenly became aware of the sticky wet liquid soaking through his shirt and pants. Lance pressed Keith against his chest, pushing his hair away from his face before he even realized what was happening. He shivered as his tired brain finally caught up with the event. _Keith was sick. Keith was getting sick. Fuck_ , Lance thought. He pressed a hand against Keith’s forehead, cursing loudly as his fingers met the scorching heat radiating off his boyfriend’s body. Lance felt his own stomach churn as Keith pitched again, wincing as the sound met his ears. Lance swallowed.

“Shit! Shit! Okay, okay, easy babe. Easy, Keith. Just breath, it’s okay,” Lance said softly, panic evident on his voice as Keith lurched forward again, bring up another wave of slimy bile and water. Keith grasped tightly at Lance’s shirt, tears streaming down his tired face as his body shook violently from the cold air that touched his burning skin. He focused on Lance’s arm wound tightly over his shoulders as a wet burp left his mouth, followed by a pathetic whimper as another stream of acidic vomit filled his mouth, dripping down his chin, soaking into his sweat soaked shirt. He had never felt this shitty and despite everything, despite trying to fully understand what was happening, Keith felt embarrassment course through his body. He wanted to tell Lance it was alright. He wanted to explain. He wanted to apologize.

Keith coughed roughly, “L-lance,”

“Shh, shut up, Mullet. Just breath. It’s okay,” Lance cooed softly, pressing his lips against Keith’s scorching temple. He inhaled loudly, listening to Keith’s ragged uneven breathing. “You’re okay, babe. You’re okay,” Lance chanted softly, running his fingers through Keith’s sweaty locks once more. Worry coursed through his body as the question of what to do ran through his exhausted mind. He stifled a sneeze as Keith coughed again, the harsh sound making Lance’s heart race. Keith was never sick, or at least, he had never been this sick. And the fact that Keith wasn’t acting like himself and grasping onto Lance’s shirt, gave Lance an indication that _this was bad._

They sat like that for a while, Keith plastered against Lance’s chest, grasping at the fabric on his collar, his eyes shut as his body tried to keep down whatever his stomach was trying to bring up. Keith swallowed loudly and focused on Lance’s heartbeat, listening to the soft _thump-da-thump_ as he tried to steady his own breathing the best he could. He groaned as his head spun again, all he wanted to do was lie back down, curl up and pretend that none of this ever happened. Instead, he reached again at Lance’s shirt, letting his boyfriend run his fingers through his hair softly. Lance breathed slowly, and it took him a few minutes of concerned silence to realize Keith was done puking for the time being.

Lance glanced at the clock on the bedside table. _6:30am._ He swallowed as he cradled Keith against his chest. It was too early for anyone to be up, and the University Health Center wouldn’t be open for another few hours. He reached for the light on the nightstand and stiffed slightly as light flooded the small bedroom, emitting a loud whimper from Keith. Lance’s breath caught in his throat for a moment as he took in the damage Keith had done. Vomit was puddled across the blue comforter, dripping from Keith’s chin and clothes, sliding down Lance’s own shirt, landing in a puddle in his lap as Keith’s head hung dangerously over it. His heart broke and Lance bit his lip as he glanced down at Keith’s face. Angry pink hues highlighted his already too pale face, sweat dripping down it, landing in the slimy mess below. Keith kept his eyes tightly shut, not wanting to worsen his headache anymore by looking towards the light, not wanting to look Lance in the eyes.

The A/C kicked on loudly as Keith shivered. His body felt weak and he was having a hard time trying to piece together why his clothes were wet and why Lance was practically holding him. He shook his head gently as Lance asked him a question, not really knowing if that was the right answer. He opened his eyes slightly, seeing a distorted image of Lance, closing them quickly as Lance pressed a gentle hand against his forehead. Lance felt disgusting in his sticky clothes and the smell was enough to make his own stomach churn, but he could only imagine how Keith must be feeling.

Lance sat there for a moment trying to figure out what to do. He leaned back against the headboard, dragging Keith with him. He tightened his arm around Keith’s shoulders, sighing deeply, as he glanced towards the bathroom a few feet away. Keith was burning up and Lance was concerned his fever had spiked… this would mean he would need to cool him off, but he also needed to change the sheets. There was no way in hell Lance was going to leave Keith alone in the shower considering he couldn’t even sit up properly on his own. Lance shivered as cool air swept over his body and heat rolled off of the older boy. He reached for the thermometer on the edge of the nightstand.

“Keith? I need to check your fever, okay?” He said softly, not really sure if Keith had heard him or not. Keith shook his head but allowed Lance to slide the thermometer in his mouth. Lance ran a shaky hand through his hair as he glanced down at his boyfriend’s shivering form. He pressed his hand once more to Keith’s cheek, shifting slightly as Keith tried moving, tried getting up, only to fall back against Lance’s chest. Lance bit his lip as he glanced down at the numbers on the thermometer. _104.1..._ _This was bad. Really bad. He needed help._ _But the only person up at this time would be Shiro- Shiro was back in town!_

“Okay, Red. I got this, I’m- I’m going to call Shiro, okay? He’ll be up. He can help. Because that’s what we need right now. We need a little help… I need help,” Lance said softly, more to himself than anything. Lance momentarily glanced down at Keith who looked half-asleep, as he grasped his phone in his hand, waiting for his fingers to stop shaking enough to dial Shiro’s number. He was freaking out. He had never seen Keith like this before, not even when he had food poisoning last summer.

Lance sneezed again, his blood running cold as he realized he wasn’t just freaking out; he was scared… _Lance tightened his grip around Keith’s torso as the older boy groaned, dropping to his dead weight as his body lost consciousness. Lance swallowed, fear and worry masking his features as he tried to keep his composure, as he tried to concentrate on anything, anything besides the blood currently covering his shirt…_ Lance shivered slightly and cleared his throat. He let out a deep breath, trying to clear his mind, and let his fingers hover over the buttons before dialing Shiro’s number. He held his breath as each ring passed, counting them silently, trying to finger out how many he had left till voicemail.

“Lance?”

Lance paused for a moment as Allura’s sweet voice filled the speaker. She sounded out of breath, and for a second Lance questioned whether he had interrupted something before he remembered they were at the gym. For some ungodly reason, Allura and Shiro hit the gym every morning before their early class. Lance bit back the panic in his voice, tears threatening to swell in his eyes as Keith whimpered softly in his arms and Lance let out a calm breath, “Allura, I-I need to talk to Shiro. Is, is he there?”

Allura paused for a moment before saying softly, “Yes, one tick.”

Lance pressed the phone to his forehead for a second and ran his hand through Keith’s sweaty hair. He felt the grasp around his shirt loosen and looked down to see Keith staring at him, a blank expression written on his face. Keith opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it, a confused expression painting over his face.

“Lance? What’s going on?” Shiro huffed. Lance took a second, picturing Shiro on the treadmill, trying his best to run at his top speed and answer the phone. A faint smile crossed his face as Lance looked back up, glancing at the shitty dresser standing across the room. Him and Keith had fought over whether or not to buy a new one a few months back after the damned thing had fallen on top of Keith while he was putting away laundry. Lance wanted a new one but Keith insisted the one they had was fine, despite almost breaking an arm.

“Shiro I-I,” Lance cut off feeling tears beginning to form in his eyes. He hated feeling helpless, he hated looking weak… just like Keith. But he needed help. He needed Shiro’s help and he knew Shiro would come. He knew Shiro could help. _He can help Keith better than you can, better than you ever could_. He heard a loud crash on the other end and Shiro cursed loudly, followed by Allura laughing. He listened to the soft conversation on the other end of the line, waiting for Shiro to answer.

“Lance? Tell me what’s wrong. No, I’m fine, babe. I swear,” Shiro said softly.

“I- need help. It’s Keith. He’s- he’s really sick and his fever’s high, and I need to bring it down, but I need to-,” Lance cut off again as Keith pitched forward, vomit spewing past his lips as he braced himself against Lance’s slender frame. Lance bit his lip as worry and concern flooded his body, taking over every other action as Keith puked for what had to be the millionth time tonight. He tried his best to juggle the phone between his shoulder and ear, one hand pressed against Keith’s chest, the other pressed against his shoulder to keep him steady as Keith grasped once more onto Lance’s soiled shirt. He winced as Shiro’s voice echoed through the phone asking him questions he couldn’t answer. Lance bit his bottom lip again, feeling blood beginning to coat his tongue, “Easy, Mullet. Easy, Keith. God, it’s okay. It’s okay, babe, Jesus.”

Lance wiped at the tears that melted down Keith’s pale face with the sleeve of his shirt gently. He swallowed, listening to the ragged breathing coming from Keith as the older boy whimpered again, apologizing softly. Lance moved the phone away from his face to let out a soft cough, wiping the tears that were still forming in his eyes, pressing the phone once more to his ear, Shiro’s voice echoing through the speaker.

Keith lurched forward, smacking his body against Lance’s chest as he tried to force air into his aching lungs. He groaned loudly as his stomach churned and he wondered what he could possibly have left to throw up because he felt like there was nothing. Keith closed his eyes, welcoming the silent darkness versus the light that flooded his senses from the nightstand table. He clutched onto Lance’s damp shirt, gripping the collar tightly as if willing it to hold him from sinking below the exhaustion that coursed through his body. He heard Lance talking and he tried to concentrate on the words that were being said but his head hurt too much and his body was on fire. He tried pushing away from Lance but his limbs still wouldn’t cooperate and all he could manage was to move his head to Lance’s shoulder. He groaned again, pressing his forehead against Lance’s neck, sighing softly as his overheated face connected with clammy cool skin.

“K-Keith, I- Shiro?” Lance asked gently, grasping the phone once more in his hand as he tried to stay as still as he could, not wanting to cause his boyfriend any more discomfort than he had to. Shiro had gone quiet on the other end and Lance swallowed, momentarily scared the older man had hung up.

“Shiro?” Lance asked again. He was about to end the call when Shiro’s voice filled his ear.

“Lance!” Shiro yelled through the phone, “Listen to me, okay? We’re on our way. Allura and I just left the gym and we’re on our way. We’ll be over there in 15 minutes, okay? Is the door unlocked?”

Lance shook his head. The worry that was laced in Shiro’s voice caused Lance’s mind to wonder. He could picture Shiro running out of the gym, Allura throwing the keys towards Shiro, which with Shiro being Shiro, he would probably miss as he jogged towards the driver side. Lance let out a loud sigh. He knew Shiro would come, after all, Keith was his little brother. Hell, if Shiro had still been in Boston, he would have found a way to still get here within an hour. Good old Shiro.

“N-no,” Lance said softly. He cast a glance towards the bedroom door, wondering if he should get up and unlock the front door, dread coursing through his body. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached a hand down, grasping Keith’s sweaty hand in his, unclasping his fingers from his shirt gently. He needed to stand. He needed to get up. He would need Keith to move.

“That’s not a problem. I still have my key. We’re on our way, Lance. You need to cool him off, you know how?” Shiro questioned lightly. Lance could hear Allura saying something in the background but he couldn’t make out what. Lance nodded, “Yeah, I use to have a little- I, I have a big family.”

Lance closed his eyes briefly, trying to rationalize why stating he had a big family would help him in his current situation. He sucked in a harsh breath as childhood memories flooded back to him. _The storm’s getting pretty bad… just one more wave, Jamie, then we’ll go home, I swear… I can’t look at you…_

“Okay,” Shiro breathed, “Do you need me to stay on the phone till I get there, or will you be okay?”

Lance pushed Keith away gently, pressing his bare feet against the cheap carpet, grimacing as his feet collided with the small puddle below. Disgust coursed through is mind followed by embarrassment. Shiro and Allura were going to walk in on this... at least Shiro was Keith’s older brother...

“I- uh- I’ll be okay,” Lance said softly, running a hand through his hair.  

“Okay,” Shiro sighed, “I’ll see you in a few minutes, Lance.”

Lance waited for Shiro to hang up before flinging his phone onto the nightstand. He turned towards the blinds, opening them slightly, letting the pale sunlight bleed through the ugly tan curtains. He stretched slightly, shuddering as he tried his best to remove his sticky shirt, pulling it gently over his head before heading into the bathroom. He opened the shower door, turning the knob gently, testing the water with his hand, waiting for it to turn lukewarm.

Keith groaned loudly as he moved his head, trying to figure out where Lance went. He pushed himself up gently, trying to steady himself, his stomach heaving at the sudden movement but failing to bring up anything except a cough. He felt his overheated body fall forward, his head colliding with something cold. And it took him several minutes to realize it was Lance’s bare chest. The younger boy ran his fingers through Keith’s hair gently, “Keith, I need to cool you off, okay? I need you to stand…”

Keith shook his head softly, the idea of moving seemed like a terrible idea. Hell, even sitting up was tiresome and, at the moment, regrettable. Lance bent down slightly, Keith’s burning forehead resting on his shoulder, “Keith, baby, I’m sorry but I really need you to help me out here. You’re too heavy for me to carry all the way to the bathroom. Please, honey…”

Keith squinted as he looked up at Lance, his vision wavering as the headache that pulsed through his muddled mind, screamed at every movement. He swallowed again. Worry was beginning to course through his overheated mind as his eyes connected with Lance’s panicked ones. _Why was Lance worried? Was he scared? Was he hurt? Had someone hurt him?_ Keith tried pushing himself up, questions crawling through his jumbled mind in a disorganized order as he tried to piece together what was happening. He felt his knees buckle, his stomach and head protesting the idea of standing upright as strong arms grasped around his torso and shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Lance whispered softly. Keith turned to peer at Lance, his brain trying to form words his mouth couldn’t shape. He wanted to know what was wrong. He wanted to know where they were going. He wanted to know what was happening. He wanted to know if Lance was okay.

“Lance?” Keith questioned, the familiar word barely pushing past his dry throat. Lance let out a soft breath, tightening his grip around Keith’s torso as the 21-year-old slumped against him. Lance coughed again, trying to clear his throat, “Don’t worry, Mullet, I’ve got you.” 


	2. It Hides Inside Us.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's storm coming,  
> It hides inside us.

Keith clenched his fists tightly as he wiped at some of the blood that was collecting at the bottom of his chin. He spit the rest on the white snow littering the ground as a devious smirk crossed his face. The guy opposite from him raised an eyebrow, and Keith stood his ground, waiting for Brad to attack. The black eye painting Keith’s right cheekbone was beginning to throb, and Keith wondered if it would swell again. He glanced briefly at his knuckles to see the broken glass embedded beneath the flesh protruding from the pale skin; he flexed his fingers and winced as pain shot through his hand. _It’s probably fucking broken again._

He heard movement and looked up as Brad lunged towards him. Keith caught his arm, pushing against his shoulder, forcing him to the ground with a loud _thunk_. The guy struggled as Keith raised his fist, his bloodied fingers colliding with warm skin and he felt a small crunch beneath his hand. He felt someone grab his arms and the 19-year-old flailed, cursing loudly as someone pulled him away from the other boy lying on the white cold ground.

The hands grasping his arms tightened and Keith struggled, kicking at the feet behind him, trying to yank his left hand away from his captor. It took him a few minutes to realize there were two guys holding his arms at his side, and Keith bit his lip as he watched Brad shuffle off the ground, moving his jaw around gently, blood trickling down his temple lazily. _This wasn’t good._ Keith stiffened as he glanced around the campus square slowly, hoping, praying to see a familiar face... otherwise. Pure white painted the ground as snow fell from the darkening sky… but no one else was around. _Fuck._

“Alright boys,” Brad said, clearing his throat loudly, “Hold him up.” Keith struggled again, thrashing against the guys holding his arms, trying to drop to his dead weight, trying to find any type fighting ground he could use against them. He sucked in a harsh breath as the first blow collided with his face, pain illuminating across his cheek again and something wet dripped down his face. _Double fuck!_ _This was going to hurt_ , Keith thought as the second blow hit his chest, causing him to drop to his knees, biting his bottom lip again, his vision wavering slightly as black dots danced in front of him. Fingers ran through his hair idly, yanking his head up, and Keith glared at the guy looming over him.

“Had enough, freak?” Brad asked.

“Fuck you,” Keith spat, gagging slightly at the blood that had begun to fill his mouth before spitting it on the ground harshly. His right eye was beginning to swell, making it hard to see out of, and Keith closed both eyes as the next blow hit, unable to break free. He felt his body go limp and cursed inwardly as a fist collided with his ribs again. _Stupid fucking Keith. Good going you idiot. Shiro’s going to kill you._

“Hey! What the hell!” Someone yelled loudly and Keith felt the hands cutting his circulation off drop his arms as he fell face first in the snow. Cold ice greeted him as something sharp collided with his chest and Keith groaned loudly, coughing harshly as all the air left his lungs. _Just pass out already!_ He tried pushing himself up, but his arms weren’t responding well, and his vision was fading. Another kick connected with his chest and Keith’s world flipped again as the pale gray sky greeted him, and he stared up at the white ice falling from above. Something loomed over him and Keith blinked slowly, trying to make sense of the dark figure, only to be met with another fist. He heard someone yell again before darkness clouded his vision, and cold swept through his aching body.

 

…………………………………………………………………………..

 

“Hey! Hey, can you hear me?”

Keith jerked awake, staring at a fuzzy dull image above him. _What the hell?_ He shivered violently realizing his clothes felt wet, frozen, and Keith momentarily wondered if he had fallen in some water. He felt someone shake his shoulder and he groaned loudly as pain shot through his right arm, his hand clenching. He blinked a few times as everything slowly started coming back to him, his vision twisting, fading, returning slowly to the bleak sky above him. He sat up slowly, wiping at his chin, pulling his hand away slowly to see red coating his fingers. _Shit._

“Hey, stupid. Can you hear me? Are you deaf?” Someone asked.

Keith dazedly directed his attention towards the voice and swallowed softly, his face heating up as his eyes connected with concerned blue ones. He felt something touch his cheek, and felt his face turning redder as soft fingers ghosted over his black eye, pressing gently against the bruised flesh. Keith flinched. The boy squatting in front of him bit his bottom lip, worry and concern painting his tanned face, and Keith felt more embarrassed than anything. He nodded slowly, pushing his protesting body off the cold ground, dizziness washing over him as his mind gradually connected with the disorientation he felt. His knees cracked loudly from the effort and Keith stumbled as a strong arm grasped his shoulder, pushing against the dislocated arm. Keith yelped loudly and pushed away from the guy, shoving him harsher than intended, bending over slightly, grabbing the hurt shoulder.

“Sorry! Sorry! Look, are you okay? Do you need me to call someone? Those guys-” The boy started, putting his hands up slowly, stepping closer.

“I’m fine,” Keith cut him off sharply, glancing back towards the other boy. He straightened weakly, biting his bottom lip as he noticed the soft black eye outlining the other boy’s left eye, the cut tearing through his upper lip. _Had he fought for you? Why?_ Confusion crossed Keith’s face, questions racing through his head as he shoved past the boy, glancing down at his right hand as he started towards his dorm. The glass embedded beneath his knuckles sent sharp pain shooting through his hand every time he flexed his fingers, and Keith winced, trying his best to dig as much glass out of his busted hand as he could with shaking fingers. His hand had collided with a busted bottle on the ground earlier, resulting in some of the glass to puncture the flesh. Shiro was going to kill him… especially since the fight had been about him... technically. Keith stumbled slightly, his converse scrapping against the slick sidewalk, and he glanced down at the ice covering the dirty sidewalk.  

“Hey! Wait! You really don’t look that great. You sure you don’t want me to call anyone?” The boy asked loudly, a few feet behind Keith. The older boy nodded, shoving his hands back in his pocket, pulling his red hoodie closer to his body. _At least it was harder to see the blood. Good thing you own a lot of red_. He heard running and turned briefly to see the other boy catching up. Keith rolled his eyes as he felt himself blush.

“What are you doing? Go home,” Keith said, kicking some of the snow off the sidewalk with his shoe.

“Look, dude, you might be fine with this, but I’m not. You look like shit, and those guys were big. At least let me walk you home,” The boy said softly.

Keith groaned loudly, “I’m fine, Man. I’ve had worse. Go home.”

“Look here, Mr. Grumpypants,” The boy said, agitation evident on his voice, “Whether you like it or not, I’m walking you home. No offense, but I don’t really feel like waking up tomorrow and reading the caption, ‘Frozen Zombie With 80’s Mullet Found Dead at Voltron University’ in the morning paper… Besides, my dorm is this way too.”

Keith groaned again, coughing softly as he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. He wasn’t surprised to find blood smeared across his hand. Figures his nose would be a bloody mess considering how much it hurt. It was probably broken… or at least, busted again. _Shiro is definitely going to kill you… then, sic Allura on you._ Keith shivered.  

“The names McClain, by the way. Lance McClain,” The boy said softly, running a hand through his hair nervously. He glanced over at Keith who shivered again.

“Yeah. I don’t really care who you are,” Keith spat.

Lance stopped momentarily and Keith faltered, turning towards him, an eyebrow arched. Lance pointed towards him, a soft smirk crossing his face, “You must be a joy at parties.”

“Fuck off,” Keith mumbled, turning back towards the sidewalk, the _Galran_ dormitory coming into view. The snow was beginning to fall harder, smacking the older boy in the face, sticking to his clothes, and Keith wondered whether there was going to be another blizzard tonight. He touched his face gently, wincing as his frozen fingers connected with warm swollen flesh under his right eye. He couldn’t see out of it very well and Keith wondered just how swollen it was, and how bad it looked. He bit his bottom lip again as he glanced over at Lance.

Lance was tall, taller than Keith, but he looked about the same age as him. But he was lankier; his blue hoodie almost swallowing him, his pants cutting off above his ankles. Keith snorted. Lance either was trying to make a fashion statement or he couldn’t find jeans tall enough for his frame. Keith shook his head roughly as he felt himself blush again. Did he have a concussion?

“So. You want to talk about it?” Lance asked softly. Keith stumbled as his foot slid over some loose ice. He caught himself, his hand connecting with the green direction sign next to him, and he cursed loudly. He shook his head as he regained his balance, “No.”

Lance stepped off the sidewalk as he spotted a large patch of frozen snow up ahead, “Fine. Suit yourself, Man.”

_Why are you being such a dick? Talk to him!_ Keith cleared his throat as he glanced at Lance again. He looked slightly hurt that Keith had rejected his offer, but Keith wasn’t a big “sharer,” much less, a talker. _He was just being nice, asshole. Say something._ Keith ran a shaky hand through his hair, grimacing as dried blood connected with his cold fingers. Exactly how much blood did he have covering his face? He turned back towards the direction of his dorm, listening to the harsh winter winds whipping around him, his hood flying up, his hair waving chaotically. He sighed, “My name’s Keith. Keith Kogane.”

He heard the other boy clear his throat and looked over at him to see a soft smile plastered against his face. Keith shook his head gently, and reached in his pocket, pulling his key as they reached the dorm building. He felt a small smile creep across his face as Lance whispered, “I’ll have to remember that, but with that mullet, I’m sure I’ll recognize you anywhere.”

Lance shoved his hand’s in his jeans pockets, feeling his face heat up slightly as red flushed across his tanned cheeks. Keith turned to face him, an agitated look flashing across his face briefly as he struggled to untangle his lanyard and headphones from his dorm key, cursing softly. Lance bit his lip. The 18-year-old extended his hand as Keith raised an eyebrow, smacking his hand away roughly, still continuing to fidget with the stupid key. Keith wiped at some of the blood that was falling from his bottom lip, and shivered loudly, pulling his red hoodie closer to his body. Awkward silence filled the small space as cold air swept around them harshly. Lance shivered as he pulled his own hoodie closer.

“You sure you’re good, dude?” Lance asked softly, after a few moments of silence. He shifted on his feet, wiggling his toes in his shoes, hoping to warm them. Keith nodded slightly, “Yeah. Like I said, I’ve had worse. Anyway, thanks for walking with me or whatever… I should probably go; the semester starts tomorrow so… I have to… study.”

Keith groaned inwardly as the words left his mouth. _The semester hasn’t even started yet, and you have to study? Study what, moron?_ _The nonexistent textbooks that you haven’t picked up yet?_

Lance nodded slowly as he cleared his throat, “Right. Well, I’ll see you around, Mullet.”  He turned and started walking towards his own dorm on the other side of the campus as he heard Keith groan, “Your dorm isn’t even over here, is it?”

Lance threw his hand in the air, offering a half-assed wave as Keith cursed again. Lance kicked some of the ice off the sidewalk and touched his cheek gently, pushing against the flesh, hoping nothing was broken. He’d gotten the black eye when he tackled one of the guys off Keith… which also resulted in a bloody lip and a few busted knuckles on his left hand. A smile crossed his face as the older boy flashed across his mind. _Keith Fucking Kogane._

 

…………………………………………………………………………

 

Keith groaned loudly as his head smacked against Lance’s shoulder, heat enveloping his body as he struggled to stay upright. His whole body felt heavy and his headache was almost unbearable. He felt something washing over him as he pried his tired eyes open slowly, shivering as water ran down his overheated back and shoulders. He heard Lance mumbling something, but he sounded far away, his familiar voice sounding fuzzy, hard to hear. Keith slowly slid his fingers over the top of Lance’s sweatpants, his fingers messing with the loose strings, as confusion crossed his pale face. Why wasn’t Lance wearing a shirt? Were they…? No, that didn’t seem right. Keith swallowed slowly. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was or why he was wet. Everything was blurry, and his mind, even more so.

Keith gulped loudly as his stomach threatened to rebel despite having nothing left to administer and flinched as he realized the water that beat against his skin felt hot and burning. He pushed weakly at Lance as his world spun, the water washing down his body beginning to scorch his flesh, his fingers slick against Lance’s chest. Keith cried loudly, yelling for Lance to let him go, begging to get out. He pushed him harder, nearly slamming against the wall behind him as Lance grabbed his wrists, pulling him closer, pressing him against his chest, his hand sliding over Keith’s back softly.

“Keith! Keith, baby. You’re okay. It’s okay,” Lance tried, grasping tightly as the older boy continued to struggle. He stood firmly against the ground, hoping Keith didn’t try and kick him, otherwise they both would tumble down. Keith screamed louder, tears spilling down his face as he smacked against Lance’s chest roughly, causing the other boy to cough, the air momentarily leaving his lungs. Lance sucked in a short breath as the bathroom door flew open, Shiro rushing in, Allura standing in the doorway, and Lance flinched at the sudden movement.

“Please! Please, Lance. It hurts; I-I don’t want to be in here,” Keith cried loudly, shoving at Lance as water washed over them. Lance’s hands slid up Keith’s arms tightly, and he shivered as Keith screamed for Shiro, trying to force himself from Lance’s grip, reaching for his older brother. Lance bit his bottom lip as Shiro ripped open the shower door, stepping halfway into the tiny shower, gripping the other boy’s shoulder to keep him forcefully under the water despite the protests.  

“Keith,” Shiro said firmly, moving his hand under his brother’s chin, forcing the younger to look at him as he continued to struggle, “Keith, hey, I need you to calm down. Lance is trying to help, but I need you to calm down, little brother. Okay?”

Keith shook his head as fear crossed his face and he tried backing away from Shiro as the older boy pressed down harder against Keith’s shoulder, trying to keep him still. Lance winced as his boyfriend struggled again before Keith slammed against the wall behind him as the water that continued to soak his burning body felt like daggers against his skin. He cried louder, kicking weakly at Shiro as the older boy tried calming him down again.

“Get away from me!” Keith yelled loudly, Shiro stepping forward, trying to regain the grip he’d lost as Keith slowly began to slide down the tiled wall, his body refusing to support him.  Lance reached for him, bringing Keith’s arms towards him as he forced him to his chest again, forcing him to remain still, causing the older boy to flinch. The water that washed over them was beginning to grow cold, and Lance felt worry and panic course through his body. Keith’s fever wasn’t going down. The boy was still begging to get out of the water that was supposed to be cooling him off... _The water felt cold against Lance’s hands, washing away the blood stained against his shaking fingers, washing away Keith’s blood. The 18-year-old let his hands rest under the faucet, scrubbing the dirt embedded under his nails, swallowing the lump in his throat as tears filled his eyes…_

“L-Lance,” Keith turned towards Lance weakly, tears glistening against his cheeks and younger boy felt his heart break. Water dripped down Keith’s pale face and he let out a half-choked sob as Lance tightened his grip. Shiro to let go slowly, stepping back even more so as he let Lance take on Keith’s full weight.  

“Lance,” Keith pleaded, “Pl-please…”

Lance felt tears welling in his eyes as he glanced down, biting his lip as pain flashed across Keith’s fevered face, “You’re okay, Keith. I promise. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Lance swallowed loudly, choking back the lump forming in his throat. Keith pushed weakly against him again as his feet slid across the wet ground and Lance almost dropped the older boy as Keith’s weight slammed against his chest. Keith clutched at Lance’s shoulders, letting out a loud sob as his stomach heaved heavily, bringing up nothing but foul saliva and harsh hiccups. Lance tighten his grip on Keith’s arms once more as his knees gave out, his head smacking against Lance’s shoulder.

Shiro cleared his throat, running a wet hair through his hair as he stepped further out of the shower, closing the glass door gently. He stood there awkwardly for a few minutes, watching Lance adjust his grip around Keith, sighing softly as his brother stopped struggling, his pleas turning into weak whimpers and coughs. Shiro nodded towards Lance, swallowing harshly before walking back into the bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind him, leaning against the thin wood as he stared absentmindedly towards the mess painting the bedroom floor. He ran a hand through his hair as his mind drifted to a few years ago when Keith had appendicitis. That had been bad. Really Bad. And yet, every time since then, Shiro always drifted to that moment when ever Keith was sick. He shivered slightly as he felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder and turned to look down at Allura, a sad smile on her face.

“Is he okay?” She asked sympathetically. Shiro nodded, “He should be now… the water’s starting to cool him off.”

“Good,” She said softly, running her hand over Shiro’s shoulders. She bit her lip as her hand felt the tension flagging his shoulders and let out a soft sigh. She leaned her head against his shoulder, running her hand down his arm, her fingers briefly grasping prosthetic fingers. A soft smile painted her face as Shiro squeezed her hand gently, before she pushed away, stepping towards the bed. She glanced around the tiny room as Shiro let out a soft breath, “This is… Jesus, Keith…”

Allura nodded, pulling her white hair into a messy bun as Shiro let out a loud sigh.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………..

 

Keith collapsed against Lance’s chest, his face pressing against Lance’s shoulder as his knees gave out, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. His muscles ached and the water washing down his pale skin was beginning to feel cool despite his whole body feeling weak and hot. He groaned loudly as his fingers grasped weakly at the strings hanging from Lance’s sweatpants, and he inhaled softly, taking in the warm scent of saltwater. _Lance._ He coughed, his tired eyes closing slowly as exhaustion swept over him. He felt soft fingers running over his back and tried focusing on Lance’s words, “You’re okay, babe. We’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Lance carded his fingers through Keith’s wet greasy hair gently as Keith groaned again. He moved his head slightly, his fingers still grasping the wet strings in his hands. He felt dizzy and sick, but the soaked fabric gripped between his fingers made him feel slightly better, made him feel grounded, safe. He opened his eyes weakly, squinting as the bright bathroom light stabbed at his eyes. He winced and swallowed loudly, “I-I don’t feel so good, Lance…”

Keith’s fingers slid from the strings as Lance nodded gently, “I know, Mullet. I know.”

Lance ran his fingers through Keith’s hair again, pressing his lips on the top of his head softly before resting his chin against the older boy’s messy hair. He breathed deeply as silence filled the tiny bathroom and fog began to coat the glass door, filling the tiny shower with heavy, thick steam. The younger boy smiled slightly as Keith’s message from a few days ago showed across the door, written in his horrible handwriting:

_Had to leave for class. Love you!_

Lance coughed softly, shifting slowly so he was leaning against the wall behind him, his bare shoulder slipping slightly… _Keith’s mouth pressed against his harshly and the younger boy flinched in surprise as his body pushed against the wall. He felt his hands relax against Keith’s chest as the surprised anger began to slowly leave his mind, thoughts racing through his head as the music that blared around them vibrated against the shitty rough plaster behind him. He took a breath, the lingering taste of cheap beer and cinnamon filling his mouth as Keith pulled Lance closer to him…_   

            “I- Can we s-sit? Please,” Keith breathed. Lance flinched as Keith’s voice met his ears and nodded, before realizing his boyfriend wasn’t looking at him. He shifted again, stumbling slightly as his foot slid across the wet ceramic, his shoulder losing against the slick tile. Lance cursed, catching himself against the wall quickly, pulling Keith tighter against him as Keith mumbled something incoherent. Maybe sitting was a better idea. He adjusted the water slightly, turning it up as his body began to shiver. Lance laughed softly as he ran his fingers once more over Keith’s back, “Of course we can.”

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

_Lance shivered slightly as the warm ocean water slid down his body, burying his legs as tiny waves meshed against his blue surfboard. He glanced at the clouds forming above him and let out a loud sigh. There was a storm coming… and summer was almost over…_

_Someone splashed him and Lance turned around to face his little brother. Jamie was sitting a few inches away from him, his tan legs disappearing beneath the saltwater as his yellow board rocked harshly, his arms crossed. Lance flipped him off before splashing water in his direction. The water around them was beginning to clash in rough waves and Lance bit his lip as he looked at the sky once more. They had only been here half the day, and despite the storm beginning to move in, Lance didn’t want to go home yet._

_He shivered again as Jamie threw move water in his direction. Lance turned to face him, an eyebrow arched._

_‘Are you ready to leave?’ Jamie signed, a frustrated look painted on his face. Lance shook his head; school started next week and he wanted to get in as much surfing as possible before their Junior year started._

_Jamie threw his hands down loudly, splashing water around them, letting out an exaggerated sigh. Lance turned back towards him._

_‘One more wave, Jaime. Then we will head home, okay?’ He signed, giving him a smile as agitation crossed Jamie’s face. Lance crossed his arms and waited patiently, sitting up straighter as thunder clapped in the distance. Waves smashed against their legs and Lance bit his bottom lip. Jamie groaned again and stretched his arms slowly before nodding…_

Lance jerked awake, clutching at the clean sheets pressed against his sweaty body as he realized tears were streaming down his face. He’d been crying in his sleep. He sat up slowly, wiping at the tears clinging to his cheeks, and ran an unsteady hand through his hair. He let out a shaky breath and glance down towards Keith lying next to him, smiling slightly to see Keith’s face pressed against his side. He reached for him gently before pulling his hand back as he realized the older boy was still sleeping.

Lance coughed quietly as he sucked in a rough breath. He swallowed at the lump still present in his throat and leaned back against the cold backboard behind him. He let go of the blue sheets and swallowed again as more tears spilt over their tired rims and glanced down at the jagged scars littered across both wrists. The younger boy let out a soft sob as the headache that had started earlier pushed against his eyes and cheekbones, and Lance coughed again. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he tried to slow his breathing, trying to calm down as memories rushed back to him in waves. He hadn’t had that dream for a while now, but for some reason tonight…

He flinched as someone touched his face and opened his eyes to see Keith kneeling slightly in front of him, his hand pressed against the backboard besides Lance to keep himself from falling on top of him. He hadn’t realized Keith had woken up. Hell, he hadn’t realized the older boy had moved. Lance bit his lip as Keith stared back him, worry and concern masking his face. Lance pressed his hand against his boyfriend’s forehead gently, relieved to find he was barely warm now.

It had taken an hour under the water for his fever to finally go down enough that Lance no longer felt the need to call the hospital. After that, and one hell of an awkward time trying to wrestle Keith out of his wet pants, Shiro breaking a lamp after tripping over a loose cord, and Lance promising he’d take Keith to see the hippos next weekend if he took the meds Shiro was offering him, Keith had finally fallen asleep. But now… guilt washed over Lance as he realized he had waken the sick boy up.

Lance flinched again, swallowing harshly as Keith moved closer, studying the tears present against his boyfriend’s cheeks.

“You okay, Blue?” Keith asked softly. His voice was weak and hoarse from coughing, causing him to wince as the words left his raw throat. Lance nodded softly, not trusting his voice at the moment. He felt like shit. The dream had awakened something inside him he tried so hard to bury, to hide, to medicate. Something he didn’t want Keith to have to deal with right now. He didn’t want to be a burden right now.

Keith inched closer to the mattress, resting his aching head against the headboard behind him. He laced his fingers through Lance’s stiff hand and pulled the other boy closer towards him, his other hand running through Lance’s sweaty hair as Lance pressed his head against Keith’s warm chest. Lance swallowed loudly as he listened to Keith’s steady heartbeat, tears falling from his eyes as his mind flashed to his brother again.

Keith tightened his grip around Lance’s shoulder as the younger boy let out a soft sob. Exhaustion flooded his body and he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open, but there was no way in hell he was going to fall asleep first. It didn’t really matter how tired he felt or how shitty he felt because Lance needed him right now. He’d had the dream again.

Keith ran his hand over Lance’s arm and his fingers tightened around Lance’s. Keith pressed his lips against Lance’s forehead, frowning slightly as his lips connected with an uncomfortable warmth present against the sweaty skin. He wondered briefly if Lance was getting sick too. The older boy shivered as Lance let out another sob and Keith coughed quietly. He held Lance tighter as the younger boy sneezed, choking slightly as a quiet sob escaped his throat.  

“You’re okay, babe. I’ve got you, Lance. It’s okay,” Keith whispered, running his hand over Lance’s arm slowly. The younger boy closed his eyes as Keith continued to talk quietly. His body was beginning to ache and his stomach was beginning to feel weird. He ran his thumb over Keith’s hand softly as he opened his eyes again, letting tears trail down his warm face lazily.

Through the soft sunlight that filtered through the closed blinds, Lance could make out the soft shape of their hands intertwined together. His slender fingers traced over the dark chemical burns that trailed down Keith’s hand, and Lance swallowed loudly as Keith wiped some of the tears dripping from his chin gently, readjusting his grip as the younger boy shifted, pressing his head once more against Keith’s chest.  

“You’re okay, babe. I’ve got you,” Keith whispered, leaning once more against the headboard, resting his chin against Lance’s sweaty hair, “It’s okay, Lancelot… It wasn’t your fault.”

 


	3. But As The Sky Darkened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a storm coming,  
> It hides inside us.  
> But as the sky darkened,

Lance laid there, curled in on himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his midsection as his stomach threatened to rebel. Even with his eyes tightly shut, the light that seeped in past the curtains, beat against his eyelids, worsening the pain behind his eyes. The 20-year-old bit his lip as Keith moved next to him, a soft hand touching his arm gently. Lance flinched.

“Lance?” Keith asked softly, trailing his fingers up Lance’s shoulder lightly, before touching his cheek, pressing his palm against his boyfriend’s forehead. He cursed inwardly as the uncomfortable warmth from earlier met his fingers, and Lance shook his head. Keith shifted slightly, pressing his chin against Lance’s shoulder, trying to get a better view of his boyfriend’s face, trying to figure out what to do. Keith wasn’t very good in these situations which Lance had always found funny considering the guy wanted to be an EMT.

It had been nearly two hours since Lance had woken up from his dream. Since then, both had fallen back into a pitiful restless sleep; Keith dreaming of red, Lance of blue. Both trapped inside the nightmarish hell from their pasts. It wasn’t until 20 minutes ago that Lance had jerked awake, nausea plaguing his body, the undeniable question of whether he was getting sick, unfortunately answered.

Keith swallowed loudly as Lance shivered, cold sweat breaking out over his warm skin, soaking through his shirt slightly. He bit his lip as he ran a shaky hand through Lance’s sweaty hair, choking back a cough, “L-Lance? I don’t really know what to do here, babe. I-”

Lance whimpered loudly as his body pitched forward, watery bile spewing past his lips as he shut his eyes quickly. Tears formed in his eyes as he coughed loudly, hearing Keith curse as another disgusting wave of vomit filled his mouth, splashing against the ugly carpet below. Lance felt his body trembling and let out a half-choked sob as Keith pressed his hand against his boyfriend’s shoulder, hoping to keep him from falling off the bed.

“Lance, fuck! It’s okay. It’s okay. Shiro!” Keith yelled loudly, steadying Lance as the younger boy curled tighter in on himself, whimpering loudly, guilt washing over him as he realized he was being a burden. Tears slipped past his long eyelashes harshly as Keith’s scarred fingers ran over Lance’s back, brushing his hair from his face gently.

“SHIRO!” Keith yelled again as Lance jerked forward, retching loudly.

A bang sounded from the other room, followed by something smacking against the door and someone yelling before the door opened quickly. Keith turned to face the door, squinting slightly at the sunlight that flooded through the hallway, before turning back towards Lance. The younger boy grasped tightly at Keith’s hand, causing the older to wince slightly.

The 20-year-old groaned loudly, holding onto Keith’s cold fingers, trying his best to steady his breathing, trying his best to ignore how shitty he felt. Keith needed him right now. Keith was sick. And Lance- Lance was just in the way.

Lance whimpered softly, stopping a strangled cough as he felt the bed dip slightly and something cold touch his forehead, brushing his sweaty bangs away from his face. He gulped loudly, opening his eyes to see Shiro’s worried brown ones staring back at him.

“That’s quite a fever, Lance,” Shiro whispered gently, moving his hand to the younger boy’s cheek. Lance bit his lip, trying to stop it from trembling as tears filled his eyes again, spilling over their tired rims. _This is your fault. This is all your fault. Everything. You’re just a burden._

“I-I’m sorry,” Lance choked out softly, feeling Keith’s fingers tighten around his hand, pulling him away from the edge of the bed, pulling him closer towards his chest. Lance hadn’t realized he was crying again until he grasped Keith’s shirt, something wet dripping down his cheeks, trailing down the bridge of his nose, and his vision clouded harshly. He hadn’t realized he was shaking until Keith tighten his grip, scabbed slender fingers running through his hair, whispering to him softly.

……………………………………………………………………………………… 

_There was so much blood. Crimson painting the black pavement, dripping from the steel frame, trailing harshly up Keith’s face as he tried prying his eyes open to the painful world around him. Pain enveloped his right side and Keith groaned, trying to muddle through the dizzying haze hovering around him to figure out what happened. He cried loudly as his vision cleared and he glanced down at the puddle of blood forming below him, red trailing up his face, falling in his mouth, nostrils, wetting his hair before splashing down in the puddle below._

_He blinked a few times as black clouded his vision momentarily, noticing for the first time, through his muddled mind, that he was upside down. He groaned loudly, trying to move trying to get free as his right arm burned harshly and Keith froze as his eyes connected with the scorched flesh. Bright red visible under burned flesh, black marks present around the nasty wounds, skin peeled back from the arm, revealing shiny, glossy red and white blisters that trailed their way down his arm and hands. Keith tried moving again, tears forming in his eyes as he realized he was stuck. He couldn’t move. His ankle was wedged between something, sending sharp pain shooting through his body with every little movement. He screamed, yelling for help, trying his best to figure out where he was and why he was here._

_He pressed his shaking hand against the metal, feeling along the hard frame, realizing he was in a car… Shiro! Despite the pain surrounding his neck, he peered to his left, sucking in a breath as his face met his older brother’s unconscious form. Blood painted down Shiro’s body, his face busted open as cruel crimson flooded down his face. Keith squirmed harshly, screaming as pain lit up his body, and he tried reaching towards his brother, calling his name loudly. Something snapped, shifting violently causing something sharp to pierce his shoulder and Keith-_

Keith jerked awake, feeling someone shaking his shoulders. He pushed them away harshly, bolting upright, pressing his hands to his head, hunching over as his books fell to the floor with a loud crash. He sucked in a ragged breath, wiping roughly at the tears that threatened to spill past his eyelashes as he gripped at the headphones shoved in his ears. _It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just-_

He coughed as someone touched his shoulder gently, and Keith pushed them away again. He was shaking, the skin on his hands burning, itching and Keith closed his eyes briefly, sucking in a few breaths as his heart pounded against his chest. He swallowed repetitively, yanking the earphones from his ears as he looked down at his textbooks and notebooks strewn across the dirty floor. He exhaled loudly. The 19-year-old glanced around the small corridor quickly, realizing, if not for the first time, he had fallen asleep on one of the benches inside the Chemistry building.

Keith gulped loudly, trying to force more oxygen into his deprived lungs, trying to calm down, trying to get his hands to stop shaking so damned much, as he swung his legs over the edge of the bench, bending down to pick up the books that had fallen to the floor. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the gloves over his hands like an unforgiving weight, and sighed deeply, opening his eyes. He sucked in a shaky breath as his eyes connected with deep blue ones, set in a concerned face, kneeling a few inches away from his face. _Lance McClain._

“Are you okay, dude?” Lance asked softly, reaching forward to brush some of Keith’s sweaty hair away from his face. Keith smacked his hand away, and bent down to pick up his textbooks, yanking the _Calculus_ book from Lance’s grasp.  

“What are you doing here, McClain?” He asked softly, his voice wavering slightly. Keith grit is teeth. He sounded weak. Hell, he probably looked weak too. Lance had seen him weak… twice. _Damned nightmare._

“I could ask you the same thing. I mean if you wanted to stalk me, all you had to do was ask,” Lance smirked, handing Keith a green notepad. Keith looked up, straightening his posture, “Why in the hell would I want to stalk you?”

Lance raised an eyebrow, “I was kidding, Mullet. I was walking to class and saw you. Thought I’d say hey… Were you having a nightmare?”

Keith clenched his fist momentarily as he glared up at Lance. He took a deep breath, and stood on shaky legs, running his left hand over the palm of his right. _Red and white blisters present under the scorched flesh, skin peeled back… There was so much blood._

“Hey! You have gloves! That’s cool,” Lance said softly, gesturing towards the black fabric covering Keith’s trembling hands. Keith groaned, “What do you want, Lance.”

Confusion etched across Lance’s face as he placed a blue notebook on the bench, “I-What?”

It had been nearly two weeks since they’d first met, and despite seeing him several times across campus, Keith had done his best to avoid the guy. It felt too embarrassed that Lance had seen him like that… and now, seeing him now, brought feelings bubbling to the surface… feelings Keith wasn’t sure how to handle. Keith cleared his throat, throwing his books back in his bag harshsly, “You keep showing up when I don’t want you to. And no offense, but I don’t have time to deal with you. I’m waiting for my brother… and I don’t want you here. I want you to leave me alone! I want you to go away!”

Lance faltered, taking a step back and he swallowed loudly, staring at Keith for a few minutes, confusion etched across his face. Keith watched as Lance’s light and friendly expression turned cold and harsh, unfamiliar and wrong. The shorter boy felt chills run down his spine, and grit his teeth, anger coursing through his veins. _You’re an idiot, Keith_. Lance took a step closer, and Keith sucked in a quiet breath, standing his ground, waiting for Lance to throw a punch.

“Listen here, Mullet,” Lance growled, slamming the last fallen notebook in Keith’s opened bag, “I was just being friendly. I thought you seemed like a cool guy, but obviously, I was wrong. You’re clearly just a dick.”

Lance stepped back, kicking the worn-down copy of _Hamlet_ that had fallen out of Keith’s bag. Keith glanced down at the book, sighing softly as he realized the pages were beginning to tear apart from the book’s spine. He bent down gently, picking it up, running his fingers over the fragile back, before glancing back up, realizing Lance had left. He swallowed loudly, glancing down the hall, seeing the tall boy entering a class at the end of the corridor.

_Good fucking going Keith. This is why you have no friends._

Someone slapped him on the shoulder, causing the teenager to jump, and he turned to face Shiro.

“You didn’t have to wait for me, Keith,” Shiro laughed softly. Keith shrugged and glanced back down the hall, biting his lip, trying to decide if he should apologize. Shiro followed his brother’s gaze, frowning slightly as his eyes met a closed door. He glanced down at the borrowed copy of Keith’s favorite book clasped tightly in his hand, taking note that Keith seemed tense. Shiro shook Keith’s shoulder gently, “Did something happen?”

Keith cleared his throat, tightening his grip around his backpack, “No.”

He shoved the book in his bag before zipping it quickly, shoving past Shiro harshly as started towards his brother’s apartment.


	4. And the First Rain Fell,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys!  
> Okay PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE be aware that there is heavy mention of suicide in here, and there will most likely be throughout. I will post at the beginning to let you know. Also, there is techniqually underage drinking, nothing graphic, and vomit as well. Like I said this will be the last sick fic featuring present Klance. The other chapters will have past Klance... slow burn :) Very excited for the next chapter, so I hope this is okay. I wrote this really late, so I apologize for typos and grammar. I also am planning on going back and renaming the chapters- they won't be moved, just renamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a storm coming,  
> It hides inside us.  
> But as the sky darkened,  
> And the first rain fell,

Lance laid there, pressing his burning cheek against the cold tile of the bathroom floor, wishing, hoping that the nausea that swelled inside him would go away, or he would. He clenched his fist again, curling in on himself as another cramp seized him and he felt hot tears prick his eyes as he took a deep breathe… _Jamie! Jamie, please…_

The 20-year-old coughed loudly as soft fingers ran through his hair and closed his eyes, hoping he could keep them closed… forever. He let out a quiet sob as his fingers pierced skin and Jamie flashed in front of him again. It was worse when he was sick… harder to keep away the memories… It was always like this.

“Lance?” Keith asked softly, wiping his nose with the bottom of his shirt. He bit his lip, running his fingers through his boyfriend’s sweaty hair, kneeling down next to him. He pressed his back against the shower door, sitting next to Lance’s shivering frame as worry and concern raced through his mind. He let out a deep breath. Lance had been in here for a couple hours, and despite Shiro or Allura’s protest, Keith had convinced them to leave them alone for a while. Keith shuddered as he sighed loudly, listening to Lance’s ragged breathing, wiping gently at the tears that fell from his eyes quietly. The 21-year-old coughed, “Lancelot?”

Lance curled tighter in on himself, swallowing down the bile that threatened to climb his throat. He opened his eyes to the ugly spinning checkered tile that decorated the bathroom floor and let out a soft whimper. _Jamie! Jamie, please… Wake up!_ Lance’s eyes drifted towards his left wrist, smashed against the ugly ground, the painful brownish red horizonal scar clashing against his skin. He coughed loudly as tears filled his eyes again. _I can’t do this! I can’t do this, and you don’t see it! You don’t look in the mirror and see his face! I do! I can’t-_

“Baby,” Keith said softly, grabbing Lance’s hand in his tightly, “It wasn’t your fault.” Keith pressed Lance’s fingers to his lips gently, closing his eyes briefly. Lance hadn’t had an episode in months, and yet for some reason, tonight, of all nights, he was having one, or on the verge of one. Blame the 103-fever racing through his lanky frame, or the dream he’d had earlier… blame anything, blame everything. Keith swallowed, opening his eyes, glancing down at the spilt water puddled on the floor a few feet away, shivering as he ran another hand through his hair. Lance had had episodes before. The first time Keith had seen it, the first time, a few months after they had been dating- Hunk calling him in the middle of class, freaking out because Lance had disappeared after talking to his family… The 21-year-old shook his head as Lance lurched slightly.

_It’s your fault. It’s all your fault! Lexi can’t look at you! I can’t be around you! Mom and dad are fighting more, Seb dropped out of school- and, and it’s all your fault! You…_

Lance groaned loudly as he pushed himself off the floor weakly, pressing his overheated forehead against the ceramic rim, taking a shallow breath as he tried to keep whatever was coming up, down. He let out a sickening hiccup as his body lurched forward and vomit rushed passed his dry lips, causing his whole body to flinch. He closed his eyes again, feeling a gentle hand pushing his hair away from his face, and Keith’s soft words hitting his ears.

“Shh, shh, easy, Lance. You’re okay,” Keith whispered softly, running his hand over Lance’s sweaty back. He carded his fingers through his hair gently as Lance pitched forward again, and Keith grimaced, swallowing loudly as his own stomach threatened to rebel. If he was being honest, he still felt sick… nowhere near as bad as he felt last night, but still sick. He swallowed again as Lance fell back against him, pulling his knees to his chest protectively, grasping at Keith’s hand tightly.

Keith honestly didn’t care if he got sick again, and he didn’t care how much Shiro protested; he wasn’t going to leave Lance, not ever, and definitely not now… Keith had seen Lance at his worse, Shiro hadn’t, and he wasn’t going to. Lance wasn’t Shiro’s responsibility, he was Keith’s, and Keith wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to him. Not again. He’d made that promise a long time ago… and he was going to keep it.  

Keith pulled him in tighter, wrapping his arms around Lance’s chest gently as the younger boy let out another quiet sob. Keith closed his eyes, biting his bottom lip, swallowing back the tears that threatened to swell in his eyes as he heard Lance choke… it hurt to hear him like this… it hurt to see him like this. It hurt because Keith remembered the first time, because he knew what he was thinking, what was replaying over and over in his mind. Keith let out a shallow breath; he wanted to take this sickness from him, he wanted to take the memories, the pain, the hurt, and the sadness from him… more than anything. Hell, he would trade his life for it. For even just a few minutes.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Keith. I’m sorry,” Lance choked, his thumb tracing over the burns on Keith’s left hand. Keith pressed his forehead against the back of Lance’s warm neck, tightening his grip around the boy’s shaking chest, “It’s okay, Lance. It’s okay. I’ve got you, Blue. Don’t worry, I’ve got you…”

Keith sniffed loudly as he cleared his throat, looking back up, pressing his chin against Lance’s shoulder softly. He peered up at the tiny window above the shower, watching tiny specks of dust floating in the air, sparkling in the pale sunlight that bled past the stained glass. It looked so peaceful, so free… He tightened his grip around Lance as the younger boy leaned his aching head against Keith’s shoulder.

Lance let his head fall against Keith’s shoulder, swallowing loudly as sweat rolled down his pale face. He closed his eyes again as his stomach churned and pressed the side of his forehead against Keith’s neck. _You’re just a burden…_

_Lance pressed his back against the wet wood behind them, feeling the rough planks and sharp nails digging into the flesh on his back. He brought his knees to his chest, pressing his palms against them as he tried to fit his lanky form inside a cramped playhouse. He sneezed softly as he leaned his head against the wooden side behind him, looking up at the stars that hung in the black velvet above them._

_The air around them sent shivers down Lance’s spine, spreading goosebumps across his tanned skin as it screamed around the wooden fort in the middle of the park. Lance glanced over at Keith, opposite from him, his back resting against the other wall, his head in his hands. Despite the wind and rain that howled around them, Lance could tell he was crying. He probably had been since…_

_Lance pushed his sleeves up slightly, peering down at the scars sitting on his wrists, reminding him of those nights, that night, of what he tried to do…_

_“I used to get them too, you know?” Lance whispered softly, bringing his knees closer, running his fingertips over the rough skin on his right wrist, gently. Keith looked up slightly, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt, shivering as he tried to peer at Lance through the black abyss surrounding them. He sniffed quietly, “What?”_

_Lance let out a long sigh, looking up at Keith, his eyes connecting with bluish-gray ones, “Panic attacks… I used to get them all the time… bad ones, like yours.”_

_Keith continued to stare, clenching his fists in his lap, digging his nails into his palms as he watched saddened pain flash across Lance’s face. Lance looked away, leaning back against the planked side again, looking back up at the bright yellow stars hanging peacefully in the sky. He exhaled loudly, “I couldn’t deal with it, with anything… after, after my brother.”_

_Lance cleared his throat, folding his arms over his chest, tears welling in his eyes as he continued to stare at the yellow balls of gas burning in the night sky. Keith felt his breathing hitch as he continued to stare at the emotion painted across Lance’s face, unable to look away…_

“Lance,” Keith whispered, feeling Lance’s grip beginning to loosen around his fingers. The younger boy shifted slightly, and Keith leaned forward, brushing Lance’s bangs away, smiling sadly as he noticed his boyfriend fighting to stay awake. At least asleep, Lance wouldn’t be able to remember… maybe this time he wouldn’t have nightmares.

Keith bit his lip as he pushed his arm under Lance’s legs, bringing him closer to his chest as he pushed himself off the floor on weakened legs. He groaned inwardly as he almost stumbled, slamming his shoulder against the cream-colored wall, adjusting his grip on Lance as the younger boy moaned softly. Lance shivered, pressing his forehead against Keith’s neck, opening his eyes and swallowing loudly as the scenery around him shifted violently.

“Where-” He started, shutting his mouth quickly as his stomach started to heave. He took a shallow breath, breathing in the warm scent of fresh-cut grass, and sweat… _Keith._ He tightened his grip around Keith’s neck, pulling himself closer to him, willing himself to feel better. His foot scrapped against the doorframe lightly, and Keith adjusted his grip again as Lance tried to figure out where they were going and what was happening. The older boy let out a soft breath, “You were falling asleep. I’m carrying you back to bed; it’ll be more comfortable than the floor… trust me.”

Lance swallowed, nodding slightly as he tried to understand what he had been doing on the floor. He felt sick. Was he sick? He sneezed as confusion crossed his features. Keith had been sick… right? 

Keith set Lance on the bed gently, biting his lip as he watched the younger curl in on himself again. He sat on the edge of the bed, shivering as the cold air brushed against his warm skin, and he pressed a hand against Lance’s forehead. He needed to get his fever down… otherwise, Lance would end up even worse than he had been. He ran a hand through Lance’s hair, brushing his fingers over one of the scars on Lance’s right wrist…

_“The scars… I know you see them. Everyone does, and they pretend not to. Truth is, I’m pretty fucked up,” Lance said gently, his eyes fixated on Keith, not daring to look away. Keith shivered, pulling his wet jacket closer to him. He couldn’t understand how so much pain could come to such a sweet person…_

Keith pushed himself off the mattress, stumbling towards the bathroom, breathing heavily as memories of that night flashed in front of him. He gripped the sink tightly in his hands, feeling the cool ceramic press against his fevered hands, feeling his stomach lurch. He glanced in the mirror, flinching slightly as his pale face greeted him, sweat beading against his hairline again, trickling down his temple. He coughed loudly, turning on the faucet, retching as water and stomach acid flooded his mouth. He shivered again as he ran a shaky hand through his black hair, taking another shallow breath, the cold air pricking his naked chest…

_…There was so much blood. Crimson painting the black pavement, dripping from the steel frame, trailing harshly up Keith’s face as he tried prying his eyes open to the painful world around him. Pain enveloped his right side and Keith groaned, trying to muddle through the dizzying haze hovering around him to figure out what happened… The 11-year-old screamed loudly as he reached for his brother, “Shiro! Shiro…”_

Keith bit the inside of his cheek, feeling blood coating his tongue, drowning out the taste of stale vomit and toothpaste. He leaned against the sink, closing his eyes briefly as he swallowed. _Now is not the time to think about that_ , he thought. He inhaled loudly, and opened his eyes, grabbing a washcloth sitting on the sink next to him. He glanced back towards Lance, still curled in on himself, and let the water rush over the dry rag and his fingers, drowning the burning skin etched into his palms, calming his senses, and letting him focus on one thing. _Lance._

He turned the water off, wringing out the excess before turning the light off, and walking back towards the bed, sitting down gently. He ran his fingers through Lance’s bangs, smiling softly as he heard Shiro and Allura talking outside in the hall. No doubt, those two were probably sitting there, waiting for Keith to let them in, waiting for Keith to call for them.

Keith pressed the cool rag against Lance’s forehead, smiling down as the 20-year-old opened his eyes slightly. Lance flinched, his eyebrows pressing together, “Keith?”

“The one and only,” Keith whispered softly. He smirked, adjusting the washcloth once more, letting the water drip down Lance’s face gradually. Lance reached up slowly, pressing his hand against the cold towel, before groaning, closing his eyes weakly. He was so fucking tired; and despite everything, despite trying to fully piece together what was happening, despite trying to shake off the memories, he didn’t really want to go to sleep… at least, not alone. Keith swallowed again, and pushed himself off the bed. He sighed loudly as his knees shook slightly as his body tried reminding him he had been severely sick just a mere few hours ago.

The 21-year-old turned to leave, hoping to sneak past Allura and Shiro to get some more water since the last glass had been knocked to the ground in Lance’s rush to the bathroom. He gasped loudly as he felt a hot hand grasp his wrist tightly, and glanced back down at Lance, letting his vision adjust slightly through the pale sunlight filtering in under the closed blinds. Lance’s fingers curled around his flesh and Keith winced slightly, “I was just going to grab some more water.”

Lance eyed him, “Please… Keith, don’t leave. I-I can’t be alone right now…”

_…Sweat dripped down Keith’s face as he pushed open the classroom door harshly, wincing slightly as it slammed against the wall. He heard several students scream as everyone turned to face him, and suddenly the 19-year-old became painfully aware of just how big an auditorium was. He let out a heavy lungful as he struggled to catch his breath. He really needed to get back in shape. He scanned his eyes over the sea of faces staring at him, feeling sweaty rainwater dripping from his chin. Despite the rain, he ran the whole way here… he just, he needed to talk to-_

_“Keith?” Someone questioned. Keith glanced up slowly to see Lance rising from his seat a few aisles below, confusion masking his features. The older boy breathed loudly, walking down the stairs quickly, nearly stumbling, clenching his fists as he felt the whole student body’s eyes on him…_

Keith swallowed loudly, tears clouding his eyes as hurt flashed across Lance’s face. He faltered slightly as Lance’s fingers dropped his wrist slowly, and Keith felt his knees weakening as Lance cleared his throat, turning away from him. Keith felt his breathing catch in is throat as he shook his head gently, “I would never leave you, McClain.”

…………………………………………………………………………………. 

Keith pressed his back against the wall behind him, clenching the red cup in his hand, shaking his head as the music blared around him. He sighed loudly, watching a bunch of drunk college students dancing around him, pressed together in an intoxicating mess of alcohol-induced hormones and overpowering cologne. He glanced to his left to see Shiro and Allura making out on the stairs, and rolled his eyes, pushing away from the wall, making his way towards the kitchen.

Parties weren’t really his thing, neither was drinking… despite getting drunk once in high school. He shuddered, remembering Shiro’s lecture the next day, followed by a round of tortuous puking and a stabbing headache. Thankfully, Shiro hadn’t told their mother, otherwise Keith was pretty sure he wouldn’t be here. Then again, it wasn’t like Shiro was a saint in high school… Hell, Keith was pretty sure that even if he had gotten drunk a few times, he still wouldn’t compare to his brother as a teenager.

Someone slammed into him and Keith stumbled, nearly dropping the solo cup in his hand, and turned to face a drunk blonde girl giggling behind him. One of her friends grabbed her arm, pulling her from the floor as they both laughed loudly. Keith grit his teeth, turning back towards the kitchen. He set his cup on the counter, grabbing a handful of stale chips that were probably pulled from the back of someone’s pantry, and popped them in his mouth. He leaned against the counter, pressing the hard edge against his hip as the song changed.

“Well, if it isn’t my rival,” Someone scoffed. Keith looked up, groaning loudly as he reached for more shitty chips strewn across the messy counter. Of all the people at this shitty party, he had to run into the one person he had been avoiding for three weeks. _Lance fucking McClain._ The 18-year-old stood a few feet away from Keith, his hands in his jacket pockets as he kicked Keith’s foot with his. Keith rolled his eyes, shoving chips in his mouth, “Rival?”

Lance nodded, “You know. Keith and Lance. Lance and Keith. Neck and neck… since you didn’t want to be friends, I assume we’re rivals… or enemies.”

Keith groaned, running his fingers through his hair, “Right. Because this is some dramatic cartoon where only those two options exist.”

Lance eyed him for a second before snorting, reaching for an empty cup on the counter, “See, Mullet, I knew you were fun at parties.”

“Oh my god, Lance,” Keith groaned, “Fuck off, will you?”

Lance stopped filling his cup, setting the half empty can on the counter, “Look, you don’t have to be an asshole all the time. Alright?”

Keith tensed slightly as Lance turned to face him, taking a slow sip from his drink. Keith locked eyes with Lance, swallowing slightly as regret filled his mind. _I thought you seemed like a cool guy, but obviously, I was wrong. You’re clearly just a dick…_ Keith sighed, glancing the younger boy over slowly, watching him take a drink of the crappy $2 beer one of the guys had bought at gas station down the road.

Lance pulled his sleeves up slightly as someone opened the back door, letting in the cold winter air, and Keith felt his blood run cold as his eyes locked onto the long-jagged scars littered across Lance’s tanned wrists. _What the hell…_ Lance cleared his throat, and Keith glanced back up, reaching slowly for more chips on the counter.

“I’m not,” Keith muttered, flinching slightly as a loud bang echoed from the other room and people cheered. Lance’s expression softened slightly, and Keith felt his heart skip a beat. Lance sighed loudly, running a hand through his hair and glanced down at his shoes, smacking the noisy rubber against the ceramic floor. He reached for the half-empty beer can on the counter, filling his cup again before looking up, “I don’t think you do it on purpose, man. Something- Every time I try to be nice, you push me away. I know you don’t have many friends…”  

Keith gulped, crushing some of the chips grasped in his hand. He looked down, glancing at the black glove over his right hand. _I know you don’t have many friends…_

_Shiro sighed loudly as he failed, for the 4 th time, to put the sheets on Keith’s bed. He straightened the top cover, throwing the pillowcase on the bed forcefully before taking a seat, running a hand through his hair. _

_"_ _Keith,” Shiro said gently, “Don’t take this the wrong way. But this isn’t high school, bud. What happened in high- what happened, it doesn’t matter here. I have 7 classes this semester, so I don’t know how much we will be able to hang out… and mom is dealing with dad, so, you know. But, can you please do me a favor? Can you try this semester? Can you try to make some friends? I know you don’t have very many…”_

Keith tensed, folding his arms over his chest, straightening his posture. He didn’t need friends. He needed to forget. Everything. He swallowed, “I don’t need friends, Lance…”

Hurt flashed across Lance’s face and he glanced away quickly as a couple pushed through the door, making out noisily. Lance nodded, “Everyone needs friends, Keith…”

Keith grit his teeth. _What was with this asshole?_ He tightened his grip across his chest, “Why are you so damn friendly and perky all the time, Lance? Why can’t you just except that some people- some people like to be alone?”

Lance was quiet for several minutes before his expression shifted… before he stepped closer. Keith backed away, his hip pressing against the counter harshly as Lance moved closer, a mere few inches from his face. Keith swallowed thickly, the air around him becoming hot and heavy, hard to breathe as Lance filled his nostrils. Saltwater and dirt… the beach… _Lance._ Keith gasped softly as Lance’s hand brushed against his as he forced a finger in the older boy’s chest. The 18-year-old’s eyes narrowed slightly as he pushed his finger against Keith’s chest.

“Because,” Lance spat roughly, “No one likes to be alone… Trust me.”

Keith stared. Breathing, thinking, blinking, all forgotten momentarily as his eyes connected with Lance’s. Keith let out a breath. Lance’s eyes were a lot bigger than he thought… several freckles painted across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. And despite Keith resting at a comfortable 5’7, Lance was much taller than he seemed. It was almost intimidating. Keith felt warmth wash over him as his composer softened slightly and felt his face heat up slowly as Lance stepped back. Keith pushed himself harder against the counter as Lance grabbed another beer from the counter.

Lance stood in the doorway, “You know, Keith, it’s okay to let loose and have some fun every now and then; to let people in… to see the real you sometimes. But if you don’t know how to do that, or you’re just going to be an asshole every time we meet, then we can just avoid each other like we’ve been doing. Either way, I don’t really care anymore. I just thought you seemed cool; I thought we could be friends. I was wrong.”

Keith closed his eyes, trying to remember how to breathe properly. The air around him still smelled of saltwater and the 19-year-old bit his bottom lip, wishing, hoping, it would remain. Lance smelled like the beach… it was nice, and unexpected. _What the fuck is your problem, Kogane?_ He ran a shaky hand through his hair as he slowly opened his eyes to the ugly green kitchen wallpaper.

He took a step forward, catching sight of Lance as the younger boy made his way towards the living room, towards the dancing crowd. Keith coughed softly, feeling the rough texture of a chip catching in his throat, and reached for his cup, letting the taste of cheap beer drown his mouth. _You’re a fucking dick. You should apologize… I just thought we could be friends. You seemed cool._ He sighed again and reached for his phone, opening Tumblr, as the same girls from earlier came stumbling into the tiny kitchen. He watched as one of the girls laughed loudly, pointing her drink in his direction, “You-you’re Shiro’s lil-little brother!”

The 19-year-old grit his teeth, setting his cup back on the counter next to him, turning back towards his phone. He hated social gatherings, and yet, every time, Shiro always managed to drag him along. His brother was a freaking social butterfly- everyone at this fucking school seemed to know him… then again, it was kind of hard to miss a big guy with a shiny prosthetic arm. Keith felt someone touch his shoulder and flinched, looking up to see the blonde girl standing a few inches from his face. He grimaced, the smell of alcohol hitting his nostrils, and he felt his stomach lurch slightly.

“ _Keith, why would you drink? This isn’t like you, bud… what’s going on?” Shiro asked softly, his expression softening slightly as he noticed the tears forming in the 17-year-old’s eyes. Keith turned his head away. He didn’t want Shiro to see, he didn’t want him to feel his pain. He didn’t want Shiro to know…_

“God, Shiro told me he had a little brother,” The girl whispered, stepping closer, pressing her warm body against his, “But he never told me he was so cute.” The girl’s friends giggled loudly, and Keith shivered as her hand ran down his arm gently. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her hand before it reached the bottom of his shirt, “Get off.”

Hurt flashed across the girl’s face and she pulled her hand back harshly, “Don’t you- don’t you want me? Am I not pretty enough for you?”

Keith pushed her away slightly, making sure not to push her against anything in case she fell. Her friends whined loudly as Keith took her drink, smelling it slightly before dumping the contents down the drain, “You’re not my type.”

He turned the tap on, filling the red cup with cold water before handing it back to the girl. She swayed slightly, grabbing the counter, pressing a hand to her head, “I’m everybody’s type, asshole.”

Keith shook his head, “Not mine. Trust me.”

The girl nodded slowly, pressing her back against the counter, dropping her cup as she lurched forward, vomit spewing past her lips. Keith jumped, pulling her hair back as she lurched again, leading her over to the sink as her friends screamed loudly before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Keith ran his hand over her back, reaching for an empty cup next to him as someone slammed into him, knocking him to the ground with a loud smack.

Black dots danced in front of him harshly as he smacked his head against the solid wooden cabinet, and he groaned loudly, pushing himself off the floor, trying to see through the darkening haze what hit him. He wiped at the blood that flowed down his chin as his eyes connected with Brad. _Fuck!_

“What the fuck, man!” Keith yelled, slamming his fist against the wall as someone turned the music higher. Keith glanced around as some people stopped dancing, gathering near the kitchen opening, waiting for the fight to break out. Brad pushed against the girl hovered over the sink, turning his head towards Keith, sharply.

“You trying to get with my girl, Kogane?” Brad yelled, his hand leaving the vomiting girl’s back, and Keith watched as she stumbled over to her friends, turning weakly, giving a soft smile. Keith shook his head, “No way. She was sick. I was-”

“Shut it, Kogane! God, you’re such a little pain in my ass! You always have been since high school,” Brad shouted, stepping forward, shoving his hand against Keith’s chest harshly. Keith fell against the counter, pushing himself away from the ledge, diving towards the other side of the room as Brad’s fist connected with some of the empty beer cans piled against the wall. Someone screamed, and Keith groaned inwardly. He clenched his fists, trying to contain the anger that flooded through his body… he really wanted a do-over with this asshole.

Keith bit his bottom lip; he wasn’t a stranger to fighting, and he wasn’t known to run… but he had promised Shiro he wouldn’t fight again unless he had to. He pressed his hand against the wall, watching Brad’s movements, smirking slightly. They were slow and uncoordinated… he was drunk. This would have been easy.

“I never did anything to you,” Keith spat, feeling blood drip off his chin as he turned towards the door. He felt his blood boil as he watched the other students standing there, waiting for the fight to start… wanting the fight to start. One guy raised his cup towards Keith, giving him a slight nod, the blonde girl leaning against the wall, laughing with her friends. _What was so fucking funny?_

“You’re such a fucking lair,” Brad said, lunging again as Keith swooped under him, pushing past the students blocking the doorway. He shoved past them, glancing towards the stairs to see Shiro and Allura still making out, not doubt, oblivious to everyone and everything around them. He shuddered as the intoxicating smell of cologne and perfume met his nostrils and he swallowed thickly, looking back towards Brad. The older boy was pushing people out of the way harshly, shoving them into each other as he tried to keep up with Keith.

“I’m going to fucking destroy you!” Brad yelled, shoving one of the drunk girls against the wall harshly. She smacked against the wall, falling to the floor, screaming as a boy handed her another cup of crappy beer. _What are you going to do, Keith? He’s drunk enough to follow you… and if Shiro catches you fighting again…_

Keith tripped, smacking against someone forcefully, falling to the floor as his vision spun. His head slammed against someone’s chest harshly as they let out a loud “oof.”’

He laid there for a second, dazed, listening to the soft heartbeat of whoever he fell on top of, before something smacked his face and he pushed himself off the ground with a loud groan. The 19-year-old glanced down at the person still lying on the ground, wincing slightly as his eyes met cold blue one’s and he ran a tired hand over his face. Out of all the people here, out of all the people dancing around him, the one person he had to smack into, the one person he had to tackle to the ground… was the one person who currently thought he was the biggest jerk in the world.

Keith ran a hand through his hair as thoughts raced through his mind, and Lance sat up slowly, grabbing his cup that had landed miraculously right-side up a few inches away. Lance glared up at him and Keith bit his bottom lip. He flinched as the music changed again and Brad’s yelling drifted through the crowd.     

“Keith! Where the fuck are you!” Brad roared. Keith turned to see the 20-year-old inching closer, more than a few yards away now, shoving past the horde of drunk teenagers. He glanced towards Shiro, rolling his eyes as his brother pulled away from Allura at the mention of Keith’s name, scanning the large crowd. _What are you going to do? What are you going to do? What are you going to do! You need a distraction. What? What! Blend in. Think, Keith! Think-_

Brad screamed again. Keith looked back down at Lance, still struggling to get off the floor. The 19-year-old groaned loudly as his mind formulated what had to be the worst fucking plan in the whole universe. He glanced over his shoulder to see Brad standing in the middle of the room, searching, people pointing- Shiro trying to push past the horde of couples on the stairs. _Fuck._ Keith grabbed Lance’s shirt, yanking the younger boy off the floor harshly, slamming him against the wall behind him as Brad yelled, “Your ass is mine, Kogane!”

“Keith! What the-” Lance started, his eyes widening as Keith slammed him against the wall harshly, his drink slipping from his hand again, the liquid splashing against both their jeans. The music changed again, and people started screaming as some horrific song blared through the giant speakers. Someone bumped into Keith causing him to smack against Lance’s chest briefly, and the older boy turned to see if Brad was still shoving past students, towards their direction. Keith groaned as Brad spotted him, and Keith turned back, biting his lip, “Sorry for this, Lance.” Confusion and anger flashed across the 18-year-old’s freckled face as Keith gripped Lance’s shirt tightly. He really fucking hated this plan… but this was the only way he could avoid Brad kicking his ass. _I just thought we could be friends…_

Keith pressed his lips against Lance’s forcefully, breathing in deeply as the room suddenly disappeared around them. Ringing filled his ears and for a moment, just a moment, he forgot about the party, about Brad, about his mom, about Shiro, about the wreck… about the pain. For a moment, just a moment, he was free. He felt shivers run down his spine as Lance’s breathing hitched, his scent filled Keith’s mouth, making him dizzy with his sweet taste. Keith’s fingers loosened against Lance’s shirt and he pressed them gently against the other boy’s cheek as he took a breath, pressing his lips against Lance’s once more.    

Red and blue lights flickered around the room as Rave music was forced through the speaker next to them, as people swayed drunkenly, trying to move their uncoordinated bodies to the beat of the song. Keith pulled away briefly, turning slightly to see if Brad was watching before slender fingers found their way under his chin, pulling his lips back to Lance’s, pulling Keith back into sweet, sweet oblivion. A smile broke out on Keith’s face, his hand sliding up the younger boy’s chest, sliding slowly up his neck before resting gently against his jaw, pulling him closer. The 19-year-old shivered slightly as Lance’s hand brushed up his hand, arm, shoulder then cheek.

He felt his face heat up as Lance’s fingers hesitated, before trailing through his hair slowly, and Lance let out a soft moan as Keith pressed his body closer to the other boy. His chest pressed against the younger boy’s, and Keith exhaled slowly, his head swimming in a dizzying array of colors, his mind concentrating on Lance’s heart beating against his own ribs. He pressed his other hand gently against the back of Lance’s neck, pulling the taller boy down closer to him as his mouth flooded with the bittersweet taste of alcohol and peppermints. It was intoxicating… hell, it was almost addictive. He took another deep breath as Lance moaned again, his other hand trailing down Keith’s right shoulder, sliding down his arm slowly…

A loud noise sounded behind them and Keith jumped, breaking away quickly to see Brad leaving. Keith grit his teeth, glancing shyly towards the stairs, ignoring the few bystanders around him who’d stopped dancing. Red crept across his face as his eyes met his older brother’s, still standing on the stairs… Allura a few steps above. _Fuck._ He swallowed softly as his mind spun viciously and he struggled to breathe in an alcoholic-induced cloud of smoke. Lance gripped his hand and Keith turned back towards him, a saddened smile crossing his face as he dropped his hands from the younger boy’s face. _Peppermints. Lance tasted like peppermints… what the fuck did you just do…_

He pushed away as Lance grabbed his wrist, “K-Keith? What the hell was- was that?”

Keith shrugged, his wrist dropping from the younger boy’s hand slowly, dropping to his side like a dead weight. He took a step back, knocking into someone standing behind him, ignoring their threats as Lance went to step closer, reaching for his hand. Keith cleared his throat, his eyes glancing towards Lance’s lips momentarily, “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you alone now…”

Keith turned towards the door, running another hand through his hair, taking a deep breath as he glanced towards the stairs again. He felt dizzy, he felt weak… panicked. Keith swallowed slightly as he saw Shiro now standing on the first step, an eyebrow raised slightly. The teenager nodded towards him, and put his hood up, pulling his headphones from his pocket, plugging them into his phone, before pushing them in his ears, and pressing play.

He glanced back towards Lance, his eyes connecting with his and Keith willed his feet to move as Lance pushed himself away from the wall, running a hand over the back of his neck before walking towards the kitchen. _What have you done._ He swallowed quickly as Shiro’s hand grasped his shoulder, and Keith shook him off; his breathing hitching slightly, his hands beginning to shake as his heart started to race. He couldn’t breathe. He really needed some fresh air. _Peppermints..._

He nudged the front door open with his shoulder, shivering harshly as the crisp winter air whipped around him, forcing his hood down as he trudged towards his dorm building. _Long slender fingers pulling him back gently. Lance’s mouth pressing against his, his hand sliding down his shoulder slowly, his other hand pressed against the back of his neck; his lips parting…_

Keith coughed, covering his mouth with his sleeve. He sniffed loudly, cursing the cold air that trailed into his lungs, and froze his feet in their place. He took a deep breathe, pressing his hand against his mouth as his plan caught up with him, slowly. The 19-year-old leaned against the mailbox, shaking his head slightly as he struggled to push frozen oxygen into his lungs. _I thought we could be friends… I was wrong. What have you done… What is wrong with you!_

Keith closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to calm down, trying to relax. He felt sick. He felt wrong. He wanted to go back in and find Lance… he wanted to explain… he wanted to shove him against a wall again- _What._ He shivered harshly, turning the volume up on his phone, opening his eyes to watch his breath forming white clouds in front of him. _What have you done…_

Sleet smacked against his face as he pushed himself off the wooden mailbox. He kicked at some of the white snow that still clung to the frosty ground with his black shoes as he made his way towards his dorm building. He bit his bottom lip, glancing back towards the party…

_…Lance’s taste filled his mouth. His warm body pressing against Keith’s as his finger’s ran through his hair…_

A loud crash brought Keith back and it took him several moments to realize someone had thrown a TV through one of the front windows. _College parties. Stupid idiots._ Keith shivered again, brushing some snow clinging to his hair and pulled his hood back on, shoving his hands in his pockets. He sighed loudly as he started walking once more towards his dormitory. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

He didn’t like Lance. In fact, he was pretty sure he despised the guy… he was too nice. Too confident. It was off-putting. It was intimidating. The kiss had been a mistake. A huge fucking mistake. And yet, it was the only thing Keith could think about.

The 19-year-old dropped his blue highlighter, letting it roll across the table lazily, pulling his hair back into a ponytail as he groaned loudly. He put his head in his hands, leaning his elbows against the table as he glanced around the small common area. Despite being small, it was usually busy… today, even more so. The first exams of the semester were next week, and a lot of students came here to flirt, eat, and desperately try to study. But Keith? Keith came here to get away. The teenager closed his eyes, sighing loudly, letting exhaustion flood his mind as the past week’s events slowly faded from his sleep-deprived mind…

_He screamed loudly, tears flooding down his face as he reached for his brother. He could hear sirens in the distance and tried his best to stay calm as blood continued to flow down Shiro’s face. Keith cried loudly, “Shiro! Shiro, please, wake up. I need you!”_

_Something exploded to Keith’s right and the 11-year-old forced his neck to turn as flames littered the street next to him. He screamed again as-_

Something slammed next to him and Keith jerked, pushing several textbooks off the table as he gripped the white edge. He sucked in a sharp breath, feeling sweat running down his face as he tried to remember where he was. The 19-year-old wiped his face and looked up to see the one person he had been strategically avoiding for the last couple of days. Keith swallowed loudly, his heartbeat speeding up as red crept on his face. Lance grimaced slightly, “Sorry, dude. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Keith shook his head slowly, running a hand through his sweaty hair, pulling the black tangled mass from the ponytail. _Honestly, Keith, did you think you could avoid him forever?_ He took a deep breath before groaning loudly, bending down to pick up his textbook, rubbing the back of his neck, “What are you doing here, Lance?”

He pressed his books against the table and looked down, dragging his highlighter across some words he wasn’t really reading. Keith was pretty sure his book was upside down, but he needed a distraction, he needed something, anything, to keep him from making eye contact with Lance. He skimmed the page, trying to look busy, trying not to think about the kiss, trying not to think about-

_He felt shivers run down his spine as Lance’s breathing hitched and Lance’s scent filled Keith’s mouth, making him dizzy… Lance’s hand trailing down his arm slowly, his fingers ghosting against his skin as Keith tried to remember how to breath properly. Lance took a breath, his lips parting slowly as Keith…_

“We need to talk, don’t you think?” Lance said, opening his water slowly. Keith froze. He swallowed quickly, looking up to see Lance taking a long drink. His eyes met the same freckles dusted across Lance’s tanned face, his long slender fingers grasping the water bottle, hidden beneath his blue long sleeve shirt. Keith shook his head, raising an eyebrow, “No, we don’t-”

Lance nodded, “I have a girlfriend.”

Keith choked. He felt something inside of him shatter loudly and glanced down incase Lance had heard it too. He felt his hand shaking under the table and dug his fingernails into his leg, hoping to focus on that pain instead of the sharp feeling tugging at his chest. Keith swallowed hard, trying to remember how to breathe properly as he looked up slowly, glancing around the crowded room. His whole face felt hot; hell, his body felt like it was on fire, and he was pretty sure the crowded area could hear their conversation. Keith let out a soft breath as he closed his eyes momentarily. _Lance had a girlfriend. Obviously. It’s not like you liked him anyway... then why does this hurt so much…_

“Good. I needed a distraction. You were the closest person to me. So, honestly Lance, we have nothing to talk about,” Keith inhaled sharply. He took another breath as he reached for his highlighter again, his gloved fingers shaking slightly. _Go away, Lance… please, go away…_

Lance raised an eyebrow, biting his bottom lip gently before letting out a sigh, “So it meant nothing… That’s good to know, Mullet.”

Keith swallowed again, clearing his throat as Lance pulled some textbooks from his bookbag, smacking them against the table softly. Keith glanced down at his hands, running his fingers over the black fingerless gloves Shiro had given him a few years ago. _It meant nothing… that’s good to know... I thought we could be friends… Please. Please, leave._

_The 17-year-old bit his lip harshly as tears threaten to spill down his face, “P-please, don’t do this!” The older boy laughed, pushing Keith against the wall harshly as the music changed in the other room, “Do what, huh? I was just using you. I mean, it’s not like someone like me could ever be with someone like you. You’re pathetic… You meant nothing to me, Keith. You should leave…”_

“Keith?”

The 19-year-old looked up slowly, feeling a lump in his throat as his eyes met Lance’s soft blue ones, “Yeah? What?” _You’re pathetic…_        

“You’re bleeding,” Lance whispered softly, tapping his pencil against the table. Keith raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the table. Blood droplets were forming on the white tabletop and Keith pressed his fingertips against the bottom of his nose, pulling his hand back, watching as crimson flowed down his pale fingers, soaking into the black gloves. _Fuck._

“Fuck,” He muttered, pulling his glove off, flinging it onto the table as he brought his hand under his nose. He glanced down towards his shirt, realizing blood was staining the old grey material. He swallowed slowly, almost gagging as he felt blood flowing down his throat. _Stupid idiot!_ He glanced up, looking around slowly, trying to remember where the bathrooms were as something was shoved into his hand. He peered down at the bundle of crumpled napkins in his hand before looking up to see Lance sitting a few inches from him.

“Dude, are you stupid? Use them,” Lance said, looking down at the ball of napkins he had thrusted in Keith’s hands. Keith nodded, still feeling blood dripping from his nose and down his hand as he pushed the rough brown paper against his face.

“Thanks,” He mumbled. He sighed loudly, wiping at the blood as he gathered some of his textbooks, throwing them one-handed in his bag. _This was beyond embarrassing._ He felt his hand shaking and clenched his fist as he took another deep breath.

“Keith,” Lance started, “Calm down, it’s just a nose bleed.”

The older boy looked up. _You don’t get it. That’s not it, it’s not just a nose bleed… it’s not just the nose bleed… you don’t get it, Lance._ Keith gulped again, thankful to taste less blood this time as he wiped his nose again before setting the napkins on the table. He flexed his knuckles, seeing the crimson liquid dried against his two-toned hand. He cleared his throat, “Lance, it-”

“Hey guys,” Someone said cautiously. Keith looked up to see two other people sitting down slowly. _Great. You should just leave already, Keith…_ Keith bit his bottom lip, still wiping at the now dried blood with the bottom of his sleeve.

The 19-year-old recognized one of them as Hunk, from his History 101 class… he wasn’t really sure about his last name or if Hunk was his first name… but he had never really talked to the guy either. The other, Keith knew from Shiro, was Pidge, Matt’s younger sister. Matt talked about her a lot whenever he came over, but Keith had never actually hung out with her by himself. Ever since she cut her hair last year, she looked exactly like Matt… it was almost creepy.

Lance smiled, slapping Hunk on the back as the guy sat down carefully, and Keith shoved some of his papers out of the way, jamming them in his messy backpack. He bit his lip and clenched his fingers slightly, wondering if he still had blood on his face, wondering if he should leave. He wasn’t good in groups… or with new people.

“Who’s this?” Hunk asked, nodding towards Keith. Keith forced a small smile as Lance ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, “Hunk, this is Keith. Keith, Hunk. And this small fry,” Lance pointed to his left, “is Pidge.”

“Yeah, Lance. Keith and I already know each other. My devil of a brother is Shiro’s partner in crime,” Pidge muttered, pulling a laptop from her backpack, and adjusting her glasses.

Lance smirked, “Oh?”

Hunk leaned forward, “You’re in my History 101 class, right?”

Keith nodded slowly, feeling suddenly exposed, suddenly vulnerable. He hated being the center of attention. He ran a shaky hand through his hair as he felt someone touch his shoulder. Keith flinched, nearly falling off his chair as he glanced up at Shiro, taking a seat next to him. _Why was this table suddenly popular!_  

“God, you’re shaky today. Jesus, did you get another nosebleed? You okay, little bro?” Shiro asked softly, setting a sandwich on the table next to him. Keith nodded as he glanced towards Lance once more. Lance smiled softly, glancing down at the homework he had pulled from his bag, tearing a pen cap off the pen with his teeth before nudging Hunk’s shoulder playfully. Keith cleared his throat awkwardly, reaching for his disregarded glove before shoving it on his hand.  

“Hey, Shiro,” Pidge said softly, typing something into her laptop. She groaned slightly and pulled her knees up towards her chest as her computer made a loud buzzing sound. Shiro nodded in her direction, smirking slightly, “Hey, Pidge. You hear anything from Matt lately?”

Pidge looked up, shaking her head, “No. Last I heard, he was trying to break into NASA. You know him, graduate 2 years early, drop off the face of the earth… all to spite our mom.”

Shiro chuckled, “Yeah, he always had trouble with rules.”

“So, you’re Shiro?” Hunk asked, opening some chips from his bag, offering some to Lance and Pidge. Shiro nodded slowly, eyebrow raised, “Why?”

Keith smirked softly. Shiro had always been more of an ask questions first, shoot later type of guy… Keith was the complete opposite. Keith ripped a chunk of Shiro’s sandwich off, earning a glare from his brother as he shoved it in his mouth. Shiro smacked his foot under the table causing Keith wince, shoving Shiro’s foot away harshly. The 19-year-old let out a loud sigh as he felt his body begin to relax. His eyes met Lance’s once more, and Keith smiled softly. _This isn’t awkward… if we can’t be friends, then we’re rivals… I thought you seemed cool._   

“Shay talks about you sometimes. By the way, I’m Hunk,” Hunk said, offering some chips to Shiro, “This is Lance. He’s my roommate.”

Shiro laughed softly, “Yeah, I think we both know who Lance is, right Keith?”

Keith felt his face heat up and he took a slow breath as Shiro bumped into his shoulder. He glanced down at the stained table, willing the other people to get up and leave… willing his own legs to move. _Fuck, Shiro…_ He didn’t want to be here anymore, and it didn’t help that his brother was about as subtle as a brick wall. He closed his textbook gently, shaking his head as Hunk offered him some chips. _It didn’t mean anything… then why can’t you stop thinking about-_

“So, dude, I have to ask, and I really hope this doesn’t come off as rude, but-” Hunk started. Shiro shrugged, grabbing an apple from his bag, “But, what happened to my arm?”

Hunk nodded carefully. Pidge stopped typing and glanced towards them. Keith took another breath, reaching for his bottle of water, hoping to get it open without spilling it everywhere. Shiro ran a hand through his hair and let out a loud sigh, “Well, if you must know… I lost it in a Russian poker match against this guy named Lotor. Turns out the Russians are serious when it comes to card games…”

Keith choked on his water, coughing roughly as wet liquid dripped from his chin and he turned to glare at Shiro. _Was he fucking serious? This shit again? Every freaking time!_

Pidge snorted, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose before turning back towards her computer. Lance burst out laughing as Hunk snorted. Keith smiled again as Lance’s laugh filled his ears and felt his breathing catch in his throat as he watched Lance’s whole face light up. _It meant nothing. It meant nothing. It meant nothing._

Shiro offered another piece of his sandwich to Keith as the younger boy pushed his hand away harshly. The 19-year-old let out a loud sigh as he grabbed his notebook, throwing it in his bookbag, and stood quickly, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he heard Shiro ask if he was okay. Keith nodded stiffly, tightening his grip on his bag strap, grabbing the bloody napkins in front of him, and turned, pushing past a few students standing randomly behind their table. He swallowed thickly as he pushed open the common area door, feeling his hand clench the napkins in his hand tightly as he tried to even his breathing, as he tried to forget everything. _It didn’t mean anything. That’s good to know… I have a girlfriend. Obviously, I was wrong... You’re just a dick. I have a girlfriend._

 


	5. I Breathed You Deeply In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a storm coming,  
> It hides inside us.  
> But as the sky darkened,  
> And the first rain fell;  
> I breathed you deeply in,

Lance sighed softly as he leaned his head against the wall behind him, glancing towards the door opposite from him. He smirked slightly as his eyes connected with some girl’s name written on a purple flower, plastered against the ugly wooden door. Most of the doors on this floor had people’s names written on some odd shape or form, taped across the thin door to let everyone know who resided where… most of them, but not this one.

Lance cleared his throat and looked down at his left wrist, watching some blood trail lazily against his skin. He wiped it away quickly, biting his lip, and started picking at some loose carpet littering the dirty hallway with scabbed fingers. He had managed to snag his hand and wrist on the brick wall outside when he tripped over some abandoned ice, waiting for someone to unlock the door. He was always unintentionally hurting himself somehow, and it didn’t help that this campus was a fucking icy deathtrap.

The light above flickered violently as someone slammed the door down the hall and Lance turned to see a girl locking her door. She stopped for a second to give the 18-year-old a weird look, causing Lance to wave awkwardly, “I-I’m waiting for someone.”

The girl nodded slowly before tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear, and turned the other direction, towards the door. Lance sighed again, slamming his head against the wall once more, letting his brown hair fall in his eyes momentarily. He shivered, pulling his thin blue jacket closer and closed his eyes slowly…

_"Sorry for this Lance,” Keith muttered softly, shoving Lance against the wall harshly. Lance felt his eyes widen as he dropped the drink in his hand, his head colliding with the plaster behind him. Sorry? Sorry! Sorry for-_

_Keith’s mouth pressed against his forcefully, and Lance struggled to make sense of what was happening as the music around them changed. His eyebrows furrowed, and he took a deep breath as Keith stepped forward, the smell of fresh cut grass filling Lance’s atmosphere, and the lingering taste of cinnamon flooding his mouth. Sorry?_

_The 18-year-old took a breath, suddenly dizzy as the air around him was sucked from his lungs, replaced with an intoxicating mixture of Keith; the room around them faded until there was nothing left but the sound of Lance’s blood rushing through his body. He pressed a gentle hand against Keith’s chest, feeling the other boy’s heart pounding strongly against his slender fingers, and Lance shivered. This… this was good…_

_Keith pressed his body closer and Lance could feel the muscles tense in Keith’s shoulders as his hand pressed against his neck, pulling him closer towards his mouth. Keith… Keith was… kissing him…. Why? Sorry! Keith started pulling away; Lance pulled Keith back to him, forcing his lips against Keith’s harshly, a smile breaking out over his face as his hand trailed down the other’s arm…_

Something kicked Lance’s converse and the teenager jumped, pulling his jacket closer as he glanced around, realizing he was almost sprawled out on the ugly green carpet of the Paladin dormitory. He cleared his throat, running a hand through his messy hair as he glanced up at a shadowy figure looming over him. He rubbed his eyes, hoping to clear his vision as a smirk settled on his lips.

 “You’re drooling,” Keith muttered, kicking Lance’s shoe again as the younger boy struggled to sit up. Lance pushed himself into a sitting position, steading himself against the wall behind him as he glanced up towards Keith again, “What?”

 “I said, you were drooling, Sharpshooter,” Keith mumbled again as he slid his dorm key into the door roughly. Lance raised an eyebrow as he wiped the bottom of his chin quickly, “Sharpshooter?”

 Keith paused, “Your shirt. It has some anime character on it with a gun, right?”

 Lance glanced down at the shirt his mom had sent him last month because she was cleaning out his closet, “Dude. This is Ruby… from RWBY. Its- wait-”

 The 18-year-old stood up quickly, steading himself against the wall as his whole world did a violent 180. He grinned, “Are you- are you telling me, you’ve never seen RWBY?”

 Keith fidgeted with his keys before letting out a loud sigh, “Look Lance, what the hell are you doing here? I know you didn’t come here to criticize what I do and don’t watch. I have homework and a test to study for, so if you could just tell-”

 Lance clutched at the bottom of his jacket awkwardly as he exhaled slowly, “I-uh, I need a place to crash… just for tonight. I know you have an extra bed.”

 “What! Why?” Keith’s face hardened slightly as he adjusted his backpack. It was awkward enough to be around Lance considering the guy and his nerdy friends started hanging around Keith’s table after class… but having the guy stay the night. Well, honestly, Keith couldn’t think of a worse hell. _Why? You afraid he’s going to hurt you again…_

Lance cleared his throat, running a hand over the back of his neck, “Um, look, as much as I love Hunk… I, uh, don’t really want to be there when him and Shay are… playing…”

 Confusion crossed Keith’s face, “Playing what?”

 “I- what? Dude, they are… you know,” Lance threw his hands up slightly, raising an eyebrow as Keith’s deadpanned expression met him. Keith crossed his arms over his chest slowly, “Stop with the charades, Lance. If Hunk and Shay are having a game night, there isn’t any reason you need a place to stay.”

 Lance stared. _Was this guy really that dense?_ He swallowed loudly as Keith opened his door slightly, “Keith, wait, please...”

 The 19-year-old shook his head, “No, Lance.” _I thought we could be friends..._

“Come on, man! I’ll- I’ll help you with something, anything,” Lance whined. He glanced down at his shoe, kicking at a loose piece of doorframe softly. He didn’t really want to go back, at least not tonight, not when Hunk had been planning this night for weeks.

 Keith sighed loudly, pressing his forehead against the cool door. He was beyond tired, and all he wanted to do was crawl in bed, try to finish some homework and then go to sleep. But now, now he had to deal with Lance too? He turned back towards the younger boy, biting the bottom of his lip gently. Lance was staring at him intently with big blue puppy dog eyes… _the fucking bastard. You’re going to regret this Kogane._

Keith pushed the door open harshly, letting it swing and smack the wall behind it as he stormed in, throwing his bookbag on the ceramic floor next to his desk. He heard Lance shuffle in slowly and Keith glanced towards his left, feeling suddenly embarrassed that he had clothes and papers scattered all over the floor. The 19-year-old picked an old shirt off the floor and threw it in his equally messy closet as he turned back to face Lance.

Lance stood in the middle of the room, looking around slowly, taking in the small dorm where Keith lived. It was smaller than his and Hunk’s, but then again, the Paladin dormitories were some of the first dorms ever build at Voltron in 1980. The 18-year-old ran a hand through his hair slowly, “Thanks Mullet. I really appreciate this.”

Keith nodded slowly, “Yeah, don’t mention it. Seriously, if Shiro knew, I’d never hear the end of it. Look, I’m going to go take a shower… just, just try not to break anything.”

………………………………………………………………………………

 

Keith groaned loudly as warm water washed over his aching muscles, dripping from his messy black hair, splattering between his toes. He took a deep breath, letting the smell of whatever soap Shiro had given him, fill his nostrils, letting the steam envelope his body, washing the day away… washing everything away.

_Music blared around him as the 17-year-old forced another cup of shitty beer down his throat. He slammed the red solo cup on the counter next to the others, glancing around the tiny room as his vision wavered violently, and his head swam with intoxicating thoughts._

_He stumbled slightly, reaching for another solo cup that someone was filling, yanking it from their hand and drinking it quickly as the person glared. Keith wiped his mouth slowly, handing the empty cup back to its owner. He pushed himself away from the counter, tipping over his feet, catching himself against the wall as he sunk to the floor._

_People pushed passed him as he struggled to get off the spinning floor, before giving up, and pressing his back against the warm wall. He leaned his spinning head against the wall, letting sweat drip down his face as he stared past the drunken horde of horny teenagers partying in the other room. As he stared at him._

_The teenagers stomach clenched violently, and Keith swallowed loudly as his eyes met his Ex’s. Tears burned against Keith’s cheeks as he watched some girl made out with someone who had just broken up with Keith a mere 6 hours ago. Keith ran a shaky hand through his hair as the humiliation of being lied to came rushing back to him in drunken waves. His stomach clenched again, and Keith pushed himself off the floor, pushing past the people dancing around him as he shoved the front door open harshly._

_He took a deep breath, doubling over as his stomach lurched, watching nauseating alcohol rush past his lips, painting the dark green grass. The 17-year-old coughed loudly, straightening his swaying body, wiping his chin, and pulled his leather jacket closer as the wind around him picked up. He took a deep breath, feeling sick, feeling a headache begin to take refuge behind his eyes, and looked up at the night sky as he began to stumble toward his house..._

The 19-year-old opened his eyes slowly, letting the stray water droplets string his eyes as he stared at the gray and blue tile of the shower wall. He ran his hands through his hair, letting soap run down his fingers as he let out a loud sigh. The bathroom door opened, and Keith paused for a second, hearing someone coming in, talking loudly before music blared through what Keith could only imagine to be a cellphone due to the shitty speaker. He rubbed his shoulders roughly, listening to the other person start the shower in the other stall, and scrubbed the remaining soap from his hair, before turning the water off.

He grabbed the towel from the bench, thankful it was barely wet from the moisture that dripped from the ceiling above, and dried quickly, grabbing a pair of hand-me-down sweatpants. The sweatpants were almost too big, but their parents didn’t really have a lot of money, so Keith always welcomed hand-me-downs versus asking his mom or dad for something new. Keith sneezed softly, as he flipped through his bag, looking for the green shirt he saw earlier before a chill swept over his shivering form… _You left it at Shiro’s apartment, you idiot._ Keith closed his eyes briefly, willing his shirt to be in the stupid black bag as he leaned against the stall wall behind him. _Shit._

Something wet dripped down Keith’s nose, and he opened his eyes to stare at the moisture gathering above him. A loud crash sounded from the stall next to him as someone cursed loudly, before the music stopped and another curse echoed through the small bathroom. Keith sighed again, shaking his hair slightly, letting the messy strands plaster against his face as he pulled the door open. He paused briefly, catching his reflection in the mirror, frowning as his eyes connected with the dark red burns painted across his chest… it was always worse when he got out of the shower… that’s why he wore a shirt. _The burns aren’t what you don’t want Lance to see though…_

The 19-year-old glanced around the quiet hallway before walking out of the bathroom slowly. He bit his lip as his hand hovered over the gold door handle on his door, the light above him flickering slightly. _Please, please be asleep._ Keith opened the door slowly and let out a loud groan as his eyes connected with Lance. Keith ran a hand over his face before sweeping his wet bangs from his forehead.

The 18-year-old was sprawled out on the empty red mattress, reading the tattered version of _Catcher in the Rye_ he had stolen from Keith’s bookshelf. Lance set the book down on his chest as Keith came into the room slowly, slamming the door shut behind him, before turning towards his dresser.

“Hey. How was your sho-,” Lance trailed off quietly, as he placed the book next to him. He sat up slowly as Keith rummaged through his drawers, and Lance turned the light on above him as he sucked in a low breath. _What the hell happened to you, Mullet?_ Lance bit his lip as his eyes traced over the burn marks painting Keith’s right shoulder blade, trailing down his back violently, disappearing beneath the waistband of his grey sweatpants. The skin on Keith’s back stood out in pinkish hues against his pale skin, twisted and angry looking, splattered across his right arm, winding down the bicep and meeting the two-toned skin Lance knew covered Keith’s hand... covered both hands. It looked horrifying. It looked painful…

Keith turned slightly, his gaze meeting Lance’s before turning back towards the splintered dresser, “Stop staring.”

Lance glanced down quickly, flexing his knuckles slightly as he cleared his throat. He turned his attention back towards the abandoned book next to him, and looked back up to see Keith picking up a shirt from his floor. The 19-year-old sniffed it, and Lance smirked as Keith threw the shirt in the closet, moving onto the next one that littered the floor.

Lance gasped loudly as his eyes connected with the tattoo plaguing Keith’s left ribs. It looked a few years old, but the black ink still stood out vibrantly against Keith’s pale flesh. Lance’s eyes traced over the design, following every detail, observing every line. It was a sword, but it didn’t look like any sword Lance knew. This one was long, covering from Keith’s armpit to his hip; its blade was thin in the middle, curving slightly, thickening as it reached a sharp edge like a machete. The tip of the handle was almost pointed; bandages wrapped around the handle and the top part of the sword, wrapping what looked like a stone with some weird symbol on it, binding it to the blade. The symbol on the stone, like the line along the blade, seemed to glow in purple ink. It was weird, nothing Lance had seen before... but it was fucking badass. It looked badass. Lance disregarded the book once more, “Dude.”

Keith looked up, his eyes following Lance’s gaze as he picked up one of the red shirts laying on his desk. The 19-year-old shook his head, his long black hair still dripping, “Don’t.”

“But dude!” Lance stood slightly, his eyes studying the tattoo as Keith struggled to pull the shirt over his wet hair, “I said no, Lance.”

Lance inched closer, excitement filling his voice, “But you have a tattoo of a sw-”

Keith forced the shirt over his head, jumping slightly, realizing Lance stood less than a foot from him. _Too close. This was too close._ Keith felt his face heat up as his mind raced, as his eyes looked towards Lance’s lips. _Peppermints… Lance tasted like peppermints._ He shoved Lance back lightly, “I said shut up, Lance.”

The 18-year-old stumbled slightly, falling back against the plastic lumpy mattress, a smirk plastered against his face. He shook his head slowly as Keith flopped on his back, his head propped up against the edge of the desk. Keith reached for one of the many books piled on the desk, and opened it, flipping through it until he found the place he had left off.

  _…Lance’s hand trailing down his arm, sending shivers down Keith’s spine as the younger’s fingers paused at the hem of Keith’s shirt. Lips pressed against lips; oxygen leaving Lance’s mouth, hot and heavy, brushing against Keith’s neck…_

Lance squirmed, flipping from his back to his stomach, from his stomach to his side, side to back, wincing as the mattress creaked loudly. The room was quiet which was nice, but the mattress was uncomfortable, and cold… the plastic stuck to Lance’s skin every time he moved, and Lance groaned loudly. He settled on his back, pulling his hands behind his head as he stared at the white speckled ceiling above him, counting the stains, wondering how they got there.

The 18-year-old turned slightly, smiling softly as he saw Keith laying in the other bed, one arm behind his head, a book in another. He seemed to be concentrating. Lance sighed again, looking back towards the ceiling, clicking his tongue several times as silence filled the small room. He wasn’t very good with silence…

 “Can I ask you a question?” He asked softly, kicking his shoes off, letting them smack against the tiled floor loudly. Keith flipped the page, sighing, “If it’s about the tattoo, then no.”

Lance exhaled, closing his eyes as he tried to think of something else to ask, letting his mind wander. He shifted again, grimacing as his skin peeled off the mattress sickeningly, and he shivered. Keith mumbled something, before something soft smacked Lance in the face.

The 18-year-old shot up quickly, grabbing the object in his hands, clenching it between his fingers before realizing he was holding a pillow. He threw it behind him, resting against it gently, shifting to his side, facing Keith. The 19-year-old raised an eyebrow and looked over at Lance. He felt himself blush slightly, realizing Lance was staring at him.

“What?” Keith growled, closing his book, placing it on the floor next to him.

Lance shrugged, “You have a blanket?”

“For the love of God, Lance, here!” Keith muttered, hurling a blanket towards Lance. Lance reached out, nearly falling off the bare mattress as he caught the soft fabric in his hands. He glanced down at the blanket as he threw it over himself, and smirked. It was a kid’s blanket… with Power Rangers on it. It was childish beyond belief.

Lance looked up questionably. Keith watched him, waiting, daring Lance to say something. The younger snorted, leaning back down, pulling his hands once again behind his head as he glanced towards the ceiling. He shivered slightly, but the room wasn’t as cold now, and he closed his eyes, listening to Keith shift in the bed across the room.

Lance cleared his throat, “You want to play 20 questions?”

“No,” Keith muttered, switching the light off and glancing towards the clock. It was almost 12:00am. Keith groaned inwardly as he forced his eyes shut. He had work in less than 5 hours… not to mention, he pulled a double tomorrow, considering they were off for some school holiday. Keith pushed the blanket off as the heater kicked on, feeling sweat beginning to form on his chest. Normally he would sleep shirtless, but with Lance here, there was no way in hell he was prepared to do that. _I thought we could be friends…_

Keith felt his mind begin to drift, his breathing even out as sleep started to fill his exhausted mind. His body hurt from work, but it was his own fault considering he went with Shiro to the gym beforehand… Shiro’s workouts were harder than Keith’s. Keith let out a soft sigh, his body relaxing as Lance’s voice hit his ears.

“Are you allergic to anything? I’m allergic to sunscreen, which is weird. My mam-,” Lance started. Keith groaned, “Good night, Lance.”

Lance shift again, bringing his legs to his chest, trying to warm his toes. He wasn’t tired… He was more of a night owl, so him and Hunk would always stay up talking. Lance swallowed, “Why does that Brad guy hate you so much?”

Keith flinched. He shifted to his side, his back towards Lance. Despite it being dark, Keith didn’t want Lance to see the expression on his face. _Because I did something terrible,_ He thought…

_“Today, the student council leader, Keith Kogane, will be delivering a speech about bullying in our afterschool assembly. Teachers, students, and parents are welcome to attend…” someone continued over the shitty intercom._

_The 17-year-old groaned loudly, pressing his head against his desk, thankful the cool wood offered some relief to the embarrassing warmth that washed over him. Despite staying home yesterday, his head still hurt, but Shiro wasn’t going to let Keith miss two days because he was still fighting a stupid hangover. Keith was lucky Shiro had let him miss yesterday… hell, he was lucky his brother promised not to tell their parents…_

Lance sucked in another breath. He peered at Keith through the darkness. The older boy hadn’t said anything in a while, which probably meant he had fallen asleep… or was close to it. Lance licked his lips as question raced through his mind. He couldn’t fall asleep, even if he wanted too, he was too wound up. He was too interested… Keith was like a Pandora’s box of mysteries, and for some reason, Lance wanted to know more. _Stop talking. Stop talking, Lance. You’re just being annoying!_ Lance bit his lip, “So what’s the deal with the tattoo?”

Keith groaned, “Jesus, McClain. Can’t you just shut up for five minutes! I swear you are the most annoying human being at this stupid college. No wonder you needed a place to crash, Hunk probably started making shit up, just so you would leave.” The 19-year-old closed his eyes briefly, regret flowing through his body as the words left his mouth. He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. _I just wanted you to feel my pain… it’s what I do… pathetic, right?_  

Keith fumbled with the blanket that was laying across his legs, as he turned towards Lance, “Hey, Lance. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Forget it,” Lance whispered. The younger boy turned on his side again, feeling suddenly vulnerable. He knew he was being annoying. He knew he was being a burden… he just couldn’t help it. He wanted to talk to someone.

The 18-year-old let out a loud sigh, drawing his knees back towards his chest as the heater kicked on again. He closed his eyes, willing his body to relax as he breathed in the familiar scent on the blanket. It smelled like Keith. It smelled nice. _I should have just gone to Lacey’s._

Keith sighed loudly as awkward silence hung in the air heavily. He shifted to his back, pushing a hand behind his head, letting his other rest on top of his chest as he continued to stare at the ceiling. Despite feeling mentally and physically drained, Keith knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep till he made things right.   

“I knew what you meant,” Keith whispered. He heard Lance’s bed squeak slightly as the boy moved, “What?”

Keith took a breath, “Earlier. When you were talking about Hunk and Shay. I knew what you meant…I just wanted you to say it.”

“Oh.”

Keith bit his lip as Lance’s voice reached his ears. He sounded hurt. He sounded down. That was Keith’s fault. Lance was just being nice. _I have a girlfriend._

Keith cleared his throat, “Strawberries.”

Confusion crossed Lance’s face as he turned towards the ceiling, “What?”

Keith ran a hand through his hair, “You said you were allergic to sunscreen… strawberries, I-I’m allergic to strawberries. Can’t eat them, or anything with the flavor, for that matter.”

The warm room was quiet for a few minutes, and Keith could hear a door slam down the hall, followed by someone yelling something. _Please say something…_ He pressed his lips together, adjusting the pillow behind him, letting his right leg hang off the bed, his foot skimming the cold ground. Lance laughed softly, “That sucks, Mullet.”

Keith snorted, “Shut up.”

Lance shot up, propping himself up on his elbow, “No, I’m serious. Like strawberry is the best flavor… of like anything.”

Keith grabbed the pillow behind his head, flinging it towards Lance as the younger boy jumped out of the way. The pillow smacked against the poster-covered wall with a soft thump, and Lance threw it back, smacking Keith in the face. The older boy rolled his eyes, “Goodnight, Lance.”

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Keith adjusted the strap on his bookbag as he kicked at some melted snow. The wind whipped around him, forcing his hoodie down, and the 19-year-old shivered slightly as Lance continued to ramble next to him. He paused briefly as Lance bent down to pick up a frozen leaf.

Despite it being close to March, most of the campus was still covered in snow. The white fluff was nice to look at, but because the campus had been mostly mud last Fall, a muddy slush now covered its grounds. This, on the other hand, wasn’t pleasant to look at. However, the weather was starting to heat up and the snow was beginning to melt, which was good considering Lance hated the cold. Keith only knew this because Lance had managed to steal almost every blanket from Keith’s bed.

Keith adjusted his jacket, and turned to see Lance still walking next to him, rambling about some anime show Keith should be watching. It had been two weeks since Lance had crashed at Keith’s dorm… and since then, he had come back almost every night. The older boy had been rather surprised, realizing that some of Lance’s stuff had made it into his dorm, strewn on the spare desk and bed. It was kind of nice to have someone to talk to. _But why?_

Lance bumped his shoulder and Keith turned towards him. Lance raised an eyebrow, “You alright man? You’ve really been spacing out on me lately.”

Keith nodded slowly. _Are you really alright?_ Lance had been around basically 24/7, annoyingly rambling about things Keith didn’t really care about, but for some reason, Keith didn’t want Lance to leave. He hadn’t thought about that night lately, he hadn’t thought about the kiss lately, and yet, Keith still felt embarrassed. He still felt hurt. It was confusing. _It didn’t mean anything… I have a girlfriend._

Lance poked at Keith’s jacket, “So, Keefers, how many tattoos do you have?”

Keith shook his head, shifting his backpack to his other shoulder as he opened the Common Area door, “Don’t call me that.”

He scanned the crowded hall, groaning loudly as he grabbed an empty tray, handing one to Lance. The cashier line was ridiculous, and despite it being midday Friday, people were still hovering around tables. Keith rolled his eyes; he had work in less than an hour and figured the best place to grab something to eat would be the Common Area café considering it was cheap… but with this line…

Lance nudged Keith’s shoulder, grabbing an apple from one of the baskets, “Alright Man. So, how many tattoos do you have?”

Keith glanced at his watch before looking back at the line. It would take him about an hour to get to work, as long as the traffic wasn’t bad, but if this line didn’t hurry up, he would have to eat on the go. He felt someone nudge his ribs again and turned towards Lance briefly, “Uh… three...”

_Maybe I can get something at work? The lines moved like 3 inches…_

“What! You have three tattoos?” Lance pushed Keith’s tray with his and Keith turned back towards Lance, a confused expression written on his face, “Yeah… wait what? No, I have four. Look, Lance, can we talk later? I’m trying to figure something out…”

Lance groaned loudly, “See Mullethead, I was right. You’re pretty cool. So, when did you get your first one?”    

The older boy gripped his blue tray in his hands tightly. Lance was talkative today… it was getting on Keith’s nerves. _What are you even doing here, Lance? Why have you been spending so much time with me! It’s fucking with my mind…_

Keith looked towards Lance, opening his mouth to say something as a loud crash sounded at the front of the line. Both boys directed their attention towards the commotion and Keith sighed loudly. Someone had gotten in a fight, knocking over the only working cash register, change was rolling everywhere as the cashier scrambled to grab the loose money before anyone else. Keith pushed the empty tray against the silver rails, “Fuck this.”

He wiped his nose with his sleeve, turning away from the scene, and started towards the exit. Normally he would wait… or be like Shiro and try to break up the fight, but he couldn’t be late… he couldn’t lose his shitty job. His parents needed the money. Keith shoved the door open with his shoulder, pulling his red hoodie closer towards his body as the wind howled around him and icy slush hit his face.

“Keith!”

The 19-year-old turned around slightly, seeing Lance running after him. Keith bit his bottom lip, shoving his hands in his pockets. He felt Lance’s hand on his shoulder, and turned around, shaking Lance’s hand away, “Are you alright?” _No._

_Keith sat on his bed, his sweaty back pressed against the bulletin board behind him as he glanced up from his textbook. He smiled slightly, biting his pen cap harshly as he watched Lance rubbing at the blue gunk he called a facemask, off his face. It was a weird thing to watch… but it was memorizing._

_Lance looked up, “What are you staring at, Mullet?”_

_Keith snapped back to reality, shrugging his shoulders, looking back down at his Sign Language book, “Nothing, Blue.”_

_“Blue?” Lance laughed loudly, and Keith looked up, smirking, “You look kind of like a Smurf.”_

_“Do I?” Lance asked, scrubbing the remaining blue shit from his face gently. Keith nodded, returning his attention back towards the book in his hands. He wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to be reading; hell, he hadn’t really been concentrating on it for the past two hours. Having Lance here… it was too distracting._

_“You need help with that?”_

_Keith choked, spitting the pen cap from his mouth, wiping spit that trailed down his chin, “What?”_

_Lance nodded towards the book before standing, rummaging through his green gym bag, looking for a clean shirt, “I know Sign Language… if you need help.”_

_"Yeah,” Keith snorted, “I’m sure you do…”_

_The 19-year-old looked up, looking back down quickly as he realized Lance was changing shirts. He felt red flush across his face and he peered back up slowly as the younger struggled to pull the green shirt from his head. You could see the muscles in Lance’s chest flex slightly as he pulled harder, his biceps tensing slightly… shit._

_Lance forced the shirt from his head, his hair standing in different directions as he reached for the blue shirt on his bed. He glanced towards Keith to find him staring, “Dude.”_

_Keith swallowed, looking down at his book, feeling his face growing hotter, “Fuck off.”_

_Lance shook his head, chuckling slightly as he pulled a clean shirt over his head._ _The 18-year-old flopped down next to Keith, pulling the textbook from his hands, flipping through the pages slowly. Keith ran a hand through his hair, “What are you doing?”_

_Lance looked up and Keith’s breathing caught momentarily as he noticed those stupid freckles standing out against Lance’s tanned face… fuck._

_“You need help, right? In this class? So you can keep your scholarship?” Lance asked softly, leaning against the dresser at the opposite end of the bed. Keith nodded cautiously, scooting back till the edge of the desk dug into his back painfully._

_Lance sighed, “Alright then. I’ll make you a deal. You help me with math because that is the only class I’m pulling a C. And I’ll help you with ASL. Deal?”_

_Lance held his hand out childishly. Keith stared at his long slender fingers, flashing back to that night, flashing back to them running through his hair. He let out a slow breath, “Deal.”_

           

“I’m fine, Lance,” Keith said quickly, turning back towards the wind. _Seriously, why are you here?_

Lance walked beside him, “Ok… you seem really on edge today. I know Shiro and Allura come back tonight, I mean if you’re worried about them, they’ll be okay-”

Keith paused, closing his eyes briefly. He forgot Shiro was out of town. Allura and him had gone on a three-day mini vacation to scope out New York. Both were hoping to move there one day, after they graduated next year, and Shiro had mentioned something about getting familiar with the area. It was all bullshit really.

Keith turned back towards Lance, “Look, Lance. I appreciate you hanging around and everything, but don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Confusion crossed Lance’s face as he nodded slowly, “Yeah, she hasn’t been to school for at least a week because her grandmother passed. She comes back tomo-”

Keith bit his lip, “Then maybe you should start hanging out with her more than me.”

Lance stepped forward, “Keith, I-”

“Lance,” Keith said, pulling his keys from his bookbag, trying to find his motorcycle key, “I-I’m not really a great guy, alright? I’m not really good with interaction, and I think it’s great you find me cool and everything, but if you knew me, you wouldn’t be saying that…”

Lance took a step forward as Keith shoved him back, “Look man, I’m- I’m late for work.”

Keith grasped his bookbag tighter, feeling his nails digging into his skin as hurt flashed across Lance’s face. _It’s not his fault you have feelings for him, asshole._ He groaned loudly, thrusting his hand in his pocket, and turned back towards the parking lot, gripping his bike key. He winced slightly as Lance’s voice reached his ears, “Jerk.”

 _You don’t get it,_ Keith thought as he trudged towards the furthest parking lot, hoping his bike would start…


	6. Drowning Silently,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please be careful while reading this chapter as it contains dark themes such as panic attacks, PTSD, Suicide and depression. I will try to update soon.   
> KB

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a storm coming,   
> It hides inside us.  
> But as the sky darkened,   
> And the first rain fell,   
> I breathed you deeply in,   
> Drowning silently,

_Fuck._ This was the first thought that crossed Keith Kogane’s mind as he tried the key again, willing his crappy motorcycle to start. He sighed loudly, ripping his helmet off, throwing it down next to him as he stared up at the night sky. It was close to midnight, and despite only being about an hour from the dorms, it would take him even longer to walk.

The 19-year-old groaned loudly, leaning his head against the handlebars as exhaustion washed through his body. _If it wasn’t midnight, you could fix it,_ He thought. His bike had been having trouble lately, but between two jobs and 6 classes, he didn’t really have a lot of time to look at it. Him and Shiro used to spend almost every Saturday together, fixing it up, making it better than the $100 Keith had spent for it, but that had been a while.  

Wind rushed around him, and Keith sneezed loudly, pulling his thin black jacket closer, and glanced around the empty parking lot. Considering he always stayed later trying to help the morning shift, the parking lot was basically empty. He ran a hand through his hair before standing and stretching loudly as his vision wavered momentarily. God, he was fucking tired.

The light above him popped before going out as darkness flooded the small space, and thunder echoed around him in the distance. _Great._ The teenager exhaled loudly as he reached for his phone, scrolling through the contacts before he found Shiro’s number. He pressed the warm device to his ear, kicking some rocks with his shoe as he waited for his brother to answer.

_“Hey, you’ve reached Shiro- Keith! Keith, get down from there! No, you can’t jump from- look, leave your message and your number after the beep, I have to go deal with my kid brother. Keith! Get back he-”_

Keith shook his head, laughing softly as he looked up at the sky again, waiting for the beep. The voicemail was from a few years ago, and despite Keith pleading for Shiro to change it, he never did. Keith swallowed as a high-pitched beep filled his ear, “Hey Shiro. So, funny story, but my bike won’t start. I wasn’t sure if you were back in town yet but… call me.”

He sighed loudly, pulling his jacket closer as he sat on the front steps of his work. The cold concrete soaked through his pants, chilling his legs and Keith groaned loudly as thunder clapped overhead once more. He glanced down at his watch, 1230am. At least he didn’t have class in the morning…

Keith leaned against the glass door behind him, pushing his legs out in front of him, as he watched tiny rain droplets smack against the black concrete, bouncing off his red and black bike before jumping towards the ground. The 19-year-old bit his lip. _You could call Lance…_ He pulled his phone from his pocket again, scrolling through his messages again, his finger hovering over _Lancelot._ It was a stupid nickname, but considering Lance came up with all kinds for Keith, he felt it was fitting.

_“Lance,” Keith said, pulling his keys from his bookbag, trying to find his motorcycle key, “I-I’m not really a great guy, alright? I’m not really good with interaction, and I think it’s great you find me cool and everything, but if you knew me, you wouldn’t be saying that…”_

_Keith grasped his bookbag tighter, feeling his nails digging into his skin as hurt flashed across Lance’s face. It’s not his fault you have feelings for him…_

Keith sighed loudly, and pressed call, hoping that Lance would pick up…

………………………………………………………………………………………

_People were laughing as pictures flashed across the screen, and Keith walked off the stage, a small grin plastered to his face as he grabbed his red bookbag. He swallowed loudly as his eyes connected with Brad’s, and clenched his fists as anger coursed through him. I want you to feel my pain, He thought. The 17-year-old slung his book bag over his shoulder, shifting it slightly as it connected with his bruised shoulder from earlier._

_He reached the door, listening to the Dean yelling his name, and turned towards the chaotic scene unfolding before him. Teachers began yelling, parents moving quickly as they tried to stop the slideshow that filtered through the projector. The Dean yelled something incoherent through the microphone as he tried to contain the rowdy gym full of people, as another picture flashed across the screen. Keith ran a hand through his hair shakily as one of the teachers glanced towards him, a disappointed look masking his features. Shit._

_The teenager looked down at the dried blood outlining some of his nails. He got it earlier this morning, breaking into the Dean’s office to replace the slideshow. It had seemed like a good idea at the time… he just wanted revenge. And if the Dean wanted a lecture on bullying, then Keith was going to give one. He wanted Brad to feel his pain._

_The lights flickered momentarily as the giant white screen went dark, before the emergency light kicked on, filling the makeshift auditorium with pale light. The 17-year-old looked up as phones started going off around him. He felt his own phone vibrating in his pocket, but he didn’t need to take it out to know what was on it. He shoved his hands in his pocket as he watched students, parents, teachers, all reaching for their phones. It was on every phone. Keith had sent it to everyone._

_The Dean shouted again, trying to grab hold of the situation as Keith kicked the door open harshly. He breathed deeply as sunlight hit his face, and he paused, listening to the chaos still partaking behind him. Now, we’re even, He thought. He pulled his keys from his bag, scanning the crowded parking lot for his motorcycle._

_The teenager glanced behind him as he neared his bike, pulling his helmet over his head. Students were beginning to pour from the gym, running to their cars as the final bell sounded, releasing them from another hellish school day. Keith threw his bookbag on the back of his bike before getting on, turning the key, listening to the slow start before the old bike roared to life._

_He cranked the handle, looking towards the gym again as a smile spread across his face. The Dean stood near the gym entrance, pointing in his direction as Keith flipped him off. He was already in enough trouble, so he might as well make it worth it. He took a deep breath as something heavy collided with his ribs._

_Keith fell against the harsh pavement, the wind knocked from his lungs as he ripped his helmet off, throwing it beside him as he tried to peer through the bright sunlight to see the person standing over him. He squinted as his vision cleared enough to see a fist hanging above him, followed by pain as it connected with his face. The 17-year-old felt blood pooling in his mouth, as another blow hit, and he coughed roughly, spewing bloody saliva past his lips as he rolled to his side quickly._

_He pushed himself off the ground, tripping over his bike, laying sideways, as he wiped at his chin, pulling back his hand to see dark red flowing down his arm. He regained his balance, putting his hand in front of him to block out some of the sun as his eyes connected with Brad._

_Anger coursed through Keith’s veins as he lunged towards the older boy, knocking him towards the ground as Brad fell with a loud thunk. Keith felt his fist connect with Brad’s jaw as the other boy struggled under him, pushing Keith off before lunging towards the bleeding teenager._

_Keith felt someone grab his shoulder, and he pushed them away harshly as Brad threw another punch. Keith stepped forward quickly, pushing the older boy down, before grabbing his shirt, and raising his fist._

_Blood dripped down his face as Keith spat, “What the fuck is your problem!”_

_Brad grinned, blood highlighting his perfect teeth, “You’re my fucking problem, you fucking fair-”_

_Keith felt someone grasp his arms, pulling him back as Brad was released from under him. Keith struggled, pulling at his arms, trying to get free as Brad started towards him, before someone grabbed his arm, holding him back. Keith grit his teeth, kicking at his captor, trying to get free. He felt someone grip his arms tighter and the teenager let out a wince._

_He looked up, groaning loudly as he realized his gym Coach was holding him back. Keith felt his knees buckle as all adrenaline left his body, as everything that happened in the past 48 hours hit him, and he glanced towards the Physic’s teacher who held Brad._

_“That is it!” The Dean yelled, coming into Keith’s view as the teenager spat more blood from his mouth, “Bradley, you’re suspended! I’ll deal with your parents later!”_

_Keith smirked slightly as Brad shook free, glaring towards Keith as he pushed past the students surrounding them. He could hear Brad curse loudly as the Physic’s teacher followed behind. The Dean turned towards Keith, pointing a finger in his chest as the younger boy winced, putting pressure on his left foot._

" _And you, Mr. Kogane,” The Dean started, “I am very disappointed in you. You’re expelled from this campus. I don’t want to see you set foot in Garrison High, do you understand?”_

_Keith nodded slowly. Shit. He hadn’t expected to be expelled. His mom was going to freak._

_The teenager felt the grip on his arms loosen as the Dean put an arm around his shoulder, “Now Mr. Kogane, you can come with me and explain to your parents how a straight A student just got expelled from my campus…”_

 

Keith jerked awake as Lance pulled up in his shitty blue 1980 Sportster. He smirked slightly, as he stood, his jeans and jacket wet from the rain, his knees protesting after being cramped for so long. He stretched, yawning loudly, running a hand through his hair as he walked towards Lance’s car.

Thunder boomed overhead, and lightening danced cross the sky as Lance rolled down his window as Keith came over slowly. Keith bent down to face Lance, “Did you bring the jumper cables?”

Lance shook his head, “No man. It’s late, I figured I could just give you a ride. We’ll come back tomorrow when it stops storming.”

The 19-year-old backed away slightly, pushing his hands in his pockets as he felt his breathing catch. He stopped a few feet from the car and closed his eyes as he focused on his breathing. _He really hadn’t thought this through._ He felt his heart speed up, his fist clenching as cotton filled his mouth and he forced his eyes open.

_There was so much blood. Crimson painting the black pavement, dripping from the steel frame…_

“I told you to bring jumper cables!” He yelled as Lance’s car began to stall. Lance cursed, turning the engine off before starting it again, “Look dude, do you want a ride or not?”

Keith gulped loudly, looking towards his abandoned motorcycle, dripping wet with rain. He bit his lip as a sick feeling washed over him. He hadn’t taken his meds. He always rode his bike, so he didn’t need them… but…

Lightening struck a few feet from him, hitting a lamp post and Keith groaned loudly as he walked to the passenger side slowly. _Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t-_

He winced as the passenger door creaked loudly as he pried it open, his hands shaking as he sat down, pulling the door shut. He bit his lip as Lance started the car again, jumping as the noise hit his ears.

Lance glanced towards Keith, concern painting his face as he saw the older boy jump. _Maybe I should have just bought jumper cables._ Lance sighed, “Dude. Seat belt.”

Keith looked down, finding the seat belt quickly, and after several attempts, finally buckled. He leaned his head back against the headrest as his stomach twisted, and his breathing sped up. The 19-year-old glanced around the tiny car, looking towards Lance, before looking back towards the road, watching as rain beat against the windshield as the shitty blue car pulled out of the parking lot. _Don’t think-_

_Rain beat against the windshield, trailing down the window harshly as the 11-year-old lurched forward again, groaning loudly as stomach acid filled his mouth…_

The car jerked forward as Lance sped up, turning down the muddy road as he willed his car to make it back to the dorm in one piece. He needed a new car, but he was bound determined to get as much use out of this one as he could… besides, it was his and Jamie’s car…

_It’s your fault. It’s all your fault! Lexi can’t look at you! I can’t be around you! Mom and dad are fighting more, and it’s all your fault! You-_

The 18-year-old cleared his throat, “So, listen, I was thinking about what you said earlier. About how I’m spending too much time with you… and you’re right. I think it would be better if I went back to my own dorm, you know? Besides Lacey comes back tomo-”

_Shiro turned quickly as Keith threw up again, tears running down his pale face as he cried loudly, clutching his stomach. The 16-year-old came to a stop, brushing his younger brother’s s hair from his eyes, “Okay, Keith, okay kiddo, don’t worry, alright? We’ll get you home and get you cleaned up, okay? I-I’ll call mom and dad and ask them what to do, but i-it’ll be alright, okay? I promise, bud.”_

_The older boy bit his lip as he glanced once more at his little brother sitting in the passenger seat. Keith wasn’t supposed to be in the front seat because he was underweight, but considering he had been throwing up nonstop since Shiro picked him up, the older boy wasn’t going to make him sit in the backseat alone._

_A car honked behind them and Shiro looked up, peering through the rain pouring around them, seeing the light was green…_

Keith closed his eyes as the car groaned loudly. Sweat was plastered to his face, and Keith let out a slow breath as his breathing caught again. He swallowed as Lance fumbled with the radio, and Keith felt the burns on his arms and back itching under his jacket and shirt. _Please, please, please calm down…_

_Shiro turned back towards the road, leaving a comforting arm on his little brother’s shoulder as Keith continued to cry…_

Lance cursed as his car made a grinding noise as he pulled out on the main road. He slapped the radio harshly, turning slightly as Keith jumped. The older boy was hunched against the passenger door, sweat glistening against his pale face, his hands clenched against his knees.  Lance slowed, “Keith? Hey man. You okay? You-you better not hurl in my car.”

_There was so much blood… Fuck._

Keith shook his head, coughing harshly as he tried to force oxygen into his lungs. Images filled his mind, panic coursing through his veins as every thought and action was focused on the lack of oxygen filling his lungs. He coughed again, feeling his stomach lurch violently as he let out a silent wheeze, “C-can’t, can’t br-breathe…”

Lance cursed loudly, slamming on his breaks as the car slid to a muddy stop, and he cut the engine. Ice filled his veins, worry coursing though his body as the only two sounds that filled the small blue car were the sounds of the storm outside, and Keith’s harsh wheezing as he tried to take in oxygen.

Lance unbuckled quickly, leaning forward, putting his hand on Keith’s shoulder lightly, “Hey- hey man. Hey Keith. It’s alright. Calm down. Deep breath, in and out, in…”

_“Lance!”_

_Lance felt fingers grasp his arms, but he was too far gone to concentrate on the words yelled around him…_

Keith coughed, feeling his stomach roll again as Lance’s hand touched his shoulder. Keith shut his eyes, trying to will his shaky fingers to find the damned button on his seatbelt. He felt Lance’s fingers touch his as they reached for the same object, and Keith’s breathing hitched again.

“H-here,” Lance said softly, pushing the release as Keith flung the seatbelt off, letting it smack against the window. The 19-year-old gripped the door handle, shoving it open harshly as his heart pounded against his chest violently. His feet pressed against sticky mud and he made it a few feet before he collapsed, his shaking hands pressing against wet grass and dirt as his stomach heaved.

Keith felt a hand on his shoulder as he coughed loudly, and he shook it off, pushing Lance away harshly as he sucked in a ragged breath. _There was so much blood, so much of it from Shiro…_

“Keith-”

Rain washed down his face and Keith closed his eyes, feeling his arms shaking under him. He took a few slow breaths, trying to get his heartbeat to return to normal as crimson filled his mind.

_Something snapped against Keith’s shoulder and the 11-year-old screamed loudly as pain seared down his left side, as the car shifted slightly, the metal frame groaning as a piece gave out. Keith turned towards Shiro, trying to reach for him as something exploded to his right and he turned to see flames littering the street, inching closer towards the car, towards Keith’s busted window-_

Something pressed against his mouth harshly and Keith fell forward, his arms shaking as strong hands grasped his face, pulling him down gently. Keith’s hand pressed against rough fabric as soft wet fingers brushed against his cheeks and jaw, and he felt his body relaxing slowly. He felt fingers pushing his wet hair away from his face as he took a breath, as he was pulled closer. Breath filled his mouth as Keith’s mind raced, as he took a deep breath, breathing in the familiar scent of saltwater and peppermints… _Lance._

Keith opened his eyes quickly, his eyebrows furrowing as he pushed Lance away harshly.

The 18-year-old stumbled slightly, pushing himself up as wind whipped around him, slamming his car door shut forcefully a few feet away. Keith found his feet slowly, “Dude! What the hell!”

“You were panicking!” Lance yelled over the thunder, wiping water away from his face, “You were hyperventilating!” 

Keith grit his teeth as angry tears filled his eyes, “That doesn’t mean you can kiss me!”

“Keith, you weren’t listening! You couldn’t breathe! I couldn’t think of anything else to distract you,” Lance shouted. He swallowed, pushing his brown hair away from his forehead as rain trailed in his eyes. He stood there for a while, shivering as the rain beat against his skin, waiting for Keith to move. Lance bit his lips before brushing passed Keith.  

Keith shivered as Lance walked towards the car. The 19-year-old looked up at the sky, letting water splatter against his face and drip in his eyes, letting tears mix with the rainwater melting down his cheeks. _You’re fucking with my mind McClain… and now you know it…_

Lance opened his door, turning back towards Keith, “Mullet! Come on! Get in the car so we can talk!” _I thought we could be friends…_

Keith turned towards him, “No! I’m not getting back in there, I can’t. And I’m definitely not getting back in there with you!”

Lance slammed his hand against the top of the blue car forcing water to splash against his face, “Keith! It’s raining like hell out here! Get in the fucking car! Please!”

Keith swallowed, pulling his wet jacket closer before shouting, “You should go home, Lance.”

The 19-year-old shivered harshly, kicking at some mud as he started walking the other direction, tears filling his eyes as Lance yelled after him. _I don’t want to be friends…_

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

Lance ran a hand over his neck as he squatted inside the wooden playhouse at Anderson park. He pressed his back against the wet wood behind him, feeling the rough planks and sharp nails digging into the flesh on his back. He brought his knees to his chest, pressing his palms against them as he tried to fit his lanky form inside a cramped playhouse. He sneezed softly as he leaned his head against the wooden side behind him, looking up at the stars that hung in the black velvet above them.

It had taken an hour for him to find Keith, cramped inside a kid’s playhouse, messing with some abandoned rocks. The rain had died down some, dripping through the loose wooden boards in small trickles, leaving wet spots puddled against the old wood. Lance glanced towards his left, smirking slightly as he noticed an ugly yellow slide leading from the fort to the muddy sandbox. He was taking that down.

The air around them sent shivers down Lance’s spine, spreading goosebumps across his tanned skin as it screamed around the wooden fort in the middle of the park. Lance glanced over at Keith, opposite from him, his back resting against the other wall, his head pressed against his knees. Despite the wind and rain that howled around them, Lance could tell he was crying. He probably had been since…

Lance cleared his throat cautiously, “So Mullet, as it turns out, my car died…”

Keith flinched but he didn’t bother looking up. He tightened his grip on his knees drawing them closer, locking his gloved fingers together. Silence hung in the air, and Lance let out a loud sigh, pulling his damp jacket from his shivering form. He inched closer, placing it over Keith’s shoulders gently as the older boy looked up slowly. Confused irritation shining against his red-rimmed eyes.

“You were shivering,” Lance said softly, pressing his back against the wall, his shoulder touching Keith’s gently. Keith pulled it closer, wiping at the water glistening against his cheeks as Lance straightened his legs, letting his shoes dangle out the entrance. He pushed his shirt sleeves up slightly, peering down at the scars sitting on his wrists, reminding him of those nights, that night, of what he tried to do…

_“Jamie! Jamie! Please wake up!” Lance yelled loudly, smacking his hand against his brother’s face as water washed under them before receding back to the ocean. Lance stared at the blue water surrounding his feet, watching it return to the ocean, watching it wash away the blood that flowed down the sand._

_“Jamie!” Lance cried again, shaking his brother’s shoulder..._

“I used to get them too, you know?” Lance whispered softly, bringing his knees back towards his chest, running his fingertips over the rough skin on his right wrist, gently. Keith looked up slightly, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt, shivering as he tried to peer at Lance through the black abyss surrounding them. He sniffed quietly, “What?”

Lance let out a long sigh, looking up at Keith, his eyes connecting with bluish-gray ones, “Panic attacks… I used to get them all the time… bad ones, like yours.”

Keith continued to stare, clenching his fists in his lap, digging his nails into his palms as he watched saddened pain flash across Lance’s face. Lance looked away, leaning back against the planked side again, looking back up at the bright yellow stars hanging peacefully in the sky. He exhaled loudly, “I couldn’t deal with it, with anything… after, after my brother.”

Lance cleared his throat, folding his arms over his chest, tears swelling in his eyes as he continued to stare at the yellow balls of gas burning in the night sky. Keith felt his breathing hitch as he continued to stare at the emotion painted across Lance’s face, unable to look away.

“My brother, well, we were twins actually. Identical,” Lance whispered, messing with the bottom of his shirt as he stared at the sky. He glanced down, wiping at some of the tears that trailed down his face as he let out a sad laugh, “We use to confuse our mom and teachers all the time. Playing jokes on them, pretending to be the other one. The only difference between use was Jamie was born deaf.”

_“One more wave Jamie, then I swear we’ll go home,” The 16-year-old signed. Jamie groaned loudly as a smile crossed Lance’s face…_

Keith swallowed the lump in his throat as he hugged his knees closer. Lance took a breath, “We lived near this beach and used to surf all the time, one day- he and I… I knew a storm was coming but I didn’t want to go in yet…”

Keith flinched as Lance let out a soft sob, coughing softly as he wiped at the tears, “The Doctors said that he hit his head on a piece of coral, and tried to breathe in the water when we went under… it really fucked up my parents… it fucked up everyone.”

Keith scooted closer, his hand pressing against Lance’s softly, “Lance, hey-”

Lance looked up and Keith felt his heart break. Tears fell from Lance’s eyes and the older boy took a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to reach out and brush them away. He wanted to wipe them away. He wanted to take away Lance’s pain. He clenched his fists, biting his lip harshly as Lance took a shallow breath, wiping his face roughly with his shirt, “I- I couldn’t take it. My parents fought more, almost every night, and my sister couldn’t even look at me. My brothers ignored me… everyone at school kind of just drifted, and I was alone…. But, but the worst thing was looking in the mirror and seeing his face staring back at me… and knowing it was my fault.”

The 18-year-old took a shallow breath as he glanced back up. Keith pressed his lips together as he swallowed against the lump in his throat, and he ran a shaky hand through his hair. He glanced up at the sky as silence filled the small playhouse. What he wouldn’t give to be up in that sky… what he wouldn’t give to be able to fix Lance’s past. _No on like’s being alone… trust me._ Keith shivered as Lance cleared his throat, and Keith glanced back towards him.

“The scars… I know you see them. Everyone does, and they pretend not to. Truth is, I’m pretty fucked up,” Lance said gently, his eyes fixated on Keith, not daring to look away. Keith shivered, pulling Lance’s jacket closer to him. He couldn’t understand how so much pain could come to such a sweet person, or how someone could make him feel that way… _You’re not alone, Lance. I’m here. And I won’t let anything bad happen to you as long as I’m around…_

Keith glanced down at his hands, biting his trembling lip as he heard Lance choke. He looked back up, staring at the black velvet hanging above them, watching the stars shin vibrantly, standing proudly next to the silent moon. Keith exhaled softly as he wiped at the tears gathering at his chin, “I got sick, at this sleepover…”

Lance glanced towards him, laughing softly as he cleared his throat, “What?”

“When I was 11. My parents were out of town and Shiro was on a date, but I got sick, so I needed someone to pick me up,” Keith mumbled. He swallowed gently, feeling Lance’s fingers squirm slightly under his, clasping between his own. Keith turned slightly as the younger boy shifted, and Keith flinched as Lance’s arm pressed against his. _He’s shivering…_

Keith pulled the jackets from his shoulders, handing the damp material to Lance as the 18-year-old shook his head. Keith coughed, placing them on the floor next to them as wind rushed around the old wood, branches scrapping against the plastic slide.

“Our car didn’t have airbags, but my parents hadn’t known when they bought it from our cousin,” Keith said gently, “A drunk driver hit us, and the car flipped several times, and, uh-”

 _You’ve never told anyone this,_ Keith thought as he cleared his throat again, wiping roughly at the tears falling from his eyes. _Lance had shared his pain… Maybe you can too._ He felt Lance squeeze his hand and he coughed softly, “We were in the car for hours. I-I was in there for hours. Alone… My brother wasn’t responding, and I kept blacking out. The EMT’s couldn’t get through, and there was this fire…”

Lance pressed his hand against Keith’s, “Is that what happened to your brother?”

Keith nodded slowly, before realizing Lance couldn’t see him, “Y-yeah.”

Lance swallowed, curling closer towards Keith’s shoulder. He hadn’t known Keith couldn’t do cars… Hell, he hadn’t known how he’d gotten those burns. But now, now it made sense. Lance shivered as he heard Keith sigh. Lance cleared his throat, regret flowing through his body as flashbacks from earlier hit him. _I didn’t mean to hurt you, Keith…I’m sorry._

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Sunlight burned against Keith’s face as he pried his tired eyes open to Lance’s freckled face. _What the hell…_ Confusion clouded the 19-year-old’s mind as he rose his head slowly, glancing around the small wooden fort, and he shook his black hair from his eyes as childish screams echoed around him. He groaned loudly as his hands scrapped harshly against the wooden floor and he turned on his back, forcing his body in an upright position.  

His body was stiff, and his joints ached, having been crammed inside a tiny playhouse all night, and Keith pressed his hands against his shoulders trying to rub the tension away. He shivered slightly as he realized his clothes were stuck awkwardly to his body, crisp, rough and still damp. He pulled his shirt away from his chest and grimaced, smelling stale body odor present against his skin. _Gross._ He felt a weight across his hips and he let go of his shirt to see Lance’s arm strewn across lap. _I thought we could be friends…_

A small smile formed across Keith’s lips as he stretched again, peering down at Lance. The younger stirred slightly, letting out a soft snore as he shifted, pulling his arm back to his chest. Keith shook his head, running his hand through his hair several times before pulling it back into a short ponytail. He really needed a haircut.

Keith leaned back against the wooden side, yawning softly as he looked back down at Lance.  His brown hair was a chaotic wavy mess, and he had drool trailing from his mouth messily. Keith snorted, pulling his phone from his pocket, opening his camera app and snapping a picture before checking his messages. Shiro had called him 5 times. _Great._  

“You were drooling,” Someone said softy.

Keith jumped. He sat up slowly, squinting against the sun that filtered through the open roof, blinking several times as his vision cleared, and he saw a small girl sitting backwards on the slide. She was gripping the top entrance with her fingers to keep from falling back. Keith swallowed, “What?”

The little girl smiled, “I said you were drooling. You and you’re boyfriend.”

“Oh,” He said softly, stretching, touching the roof of the playhouse as he glanced back down at Lance once more. Keith poked at Lance’s arm slightly, grabbing the jackets behind him as the younger groaned softly. _I have a girlfriend._

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Keith stated as the little girl giggled loudly, letting go of the slide, falling backwards slowly. _This doesn’t mean anything… last night, last night didn’t mean anything._ Keith rolled his eyes as she yelled, “Sure!”

“Lance, come on. We have to get up,” Keith said gently, shaking the younger boy’s shoulder. Lance groaned again, moving sluggishly as he wiped the spit trailing from his mouth. He turned his head slightly, blinking up at Keith hovering over him. The 18-year-old looked around the small fort, moving his legs slowly, trying to pull them inside the small playhouse, “Wh-what?”

“Come on, before we get attacked by the munchkins,” Keith joked. Lance shot up quickly, his hair covering his face as he turned towards Keith, “Munchkins!”

The older boy laughed softly, pushing Lance’s hair from his face, “Yeah dude. We fell asleep in their hideout. Come on, we have to call Shiro.”

Lance winced slightly as he stretched his aching body, peering up at the sky and squinting as light met his eyes. He sighed, turning back towards Keith, biting his lip as Keith tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Keith’s shirt was plastered to his body and you could see the outline of his muscles under his shirt. _What’s with you, Mullethead?_

Keith arched an eyebrow as he inched towards the wooden fort entrance awkwardly. Lance shook his head, and cleared his throat as he followed suit. He felt something scrape his foot and looked down before shoving Keith’s shoulder roughly. The 19-year-old flinched, missing the handle one the door as he pitched forward, falling a few feet on the ground outside the playhouse. Lance felt his face heat up as he glanced out the door slowly to find Keith laying on his back, staring up at Lance angrily, “Okay, Lance. What the hell?”

Lance bit his lip, looking back down at his foot before clearing his throat, “Sorry Mullet. I just, uh, have you seen my shoe?”

           


	7. In Your Beautiful Pain,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a storm coming,  
> It hides inside us.  
> But as the sky darkened,  
> And the first rain fell,  
> I breathed you deeply in,  
> Drowning silently,  
> In your beautiful pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I mentioned to wait for chapter 8, but that is now being pushed to chapter 9! SUPER EXCITED for chapter 9, which will be posted by next weekend. This chapter got SUPER long because there was and is a lot I wanted to incorporate in here; however, the second half of this (chapter 8) will be up tomorrow.  
> For this chapter, please keep in mind and be WARNED that I do mention suicidal themes/ actions... so this chapter is very dark. If you want to wait until I post chapter 8/9, definitely do it! Chapter 8 isn't as dark but there is still dark themes. Chapter 9 is just *squeals* - wait and see :) 
> 
> Okay lovelies, stay safe! Please be warned!! 
> 
> KB  
> P.S. The song I mention in here is "Broken" by Lovelytheband

_Tears flooded his eyes as he glanced at his reflection in the mirror; brown hair, tanned freckled flesh and blues eyes, stared back at him as Lance gripped the white porcelain sink harder. It should have been you, because honestly, the wrong son died…_

_He flinched as something loud smashed against his door, voices yelling as his mother screamed something incoherent, his father matching her tone, cursing loudly. There was a loud bang as glass broke, a door slamming, and Lance let out a steady breath as he heard his sister starting to cry. He glanced back towards the sink, blood beginning to drip down his right hand, trailing down his sun kissed skin, tracing the older scars painting his arm. He swallowed loudly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as his sister banged against the door, screaming for Lance to come out, screaming for Lance to break up his parents._

_Lance coughed, pressing his fingers against the white sink, his knuckles turning white, the pressure hurting his hands, his short nails bending against the porcelain. He glanced back up, the light hurting his eyes slightly. The room spun slowly, the pale blues and tans of the wallpaper mixing together in a nauseating swirl of desperate colors. Lance shivered…_

_“I just want you to know, this is all your fault, Lance. Mom and dad fighting, Sebastian drinking, Lexi quitting school… it’s all because of what you let happen. What happened to him- it’s because of you-”_

_The 16-year-old felt his arms shaking, and his knees buckled as he let out a loud sob. It should have been you. It should have been you. It should have been-_

_Lance pressed his back against the bathroom door, letting the splintered wood cut into his back as he slid against it, letting himself fall until his legs were sprawled out in front of him. He looked down at the soft green jacket sitting next to him, a faint smile settling on his lips as his fingers touched the yellow band wrapped around the worn fabric. He bundled the jacket in his arms and pressed his nose against the grey hood, inhaling deeply. It still smelled like him. It still smelled like Jamie._

_Lance bit his lip, leaning his head against the door, closing his eyes as tears washed down his face silently. He heard his parents yelling at each other again, the door slamming, his sister screaming, his mother crying... Lance buried his head in the green fabric again, letting the memories wash through him as his mind raced, his fingers curled around the small sharp object clasped in his right hand. It should have been you…_

The 18-year-old jerked awake, breathing heavily as he pulled his body away from the window, pushing himself forward as he tried to force air into his lungs. He gulped, feeling sweat coating his face as he tried to calm himself, tears stinging his eyes, his right hand shaking harshly. He looked down, clenching his fingers tightly, watching the pressure turning his knuckles white, feeling his fingernails dig into his flesh as a soft hand touched his shoulder. _It should have been you, Lance._  

Lance flinched, looking up, wiping away the tears sitting in his eyes as he met Allura’s worried face, several inches away from his. The teenager swallowed, clearing his throat as he pressed his hand against his thigh, his fingernails still digging into flesh, keeping him grounded. He opened his mouth, trying to find the words, but instead pressed his lips together tightly, hoping, praying that the tears that sat in his eyes weren’t as noticeable as they felt. He forced a shaky smile.

“Lance,” Allura asked softly, her eyebrows scrunching together as she tucked a strand of white hair behind her ear, “Are you alright?”

Lance nodded slowly, pressing his still shaking hand tighter against his thigh, hoping she couldn’t see it, hoping she couldn’t see how bad it was shaking, how bad it hurt. He leaned back against the seat, pressing his back against the soft old fabric, closing his eyes briefly as he let out a slow breath. He heard Allura sigh softly as Shiro asked her something. _This is your fault._

Lance opened his eyes, unclenching his fingers slowly, feeling his body beginning to relax. He glanced down at his hand, spreading his fingers apart carefully, watching, waiting for the muscles to still. He sighed loudly, leaning his head against the window, letting the cool glass mesh against his sweaty forehead as he watched trees and houses pass by him outside, the sun weaving between clouds peacefully.

Awkward silence filled the tiny car and Lance glanced towards his right, smiling slightly as his eyes met Keith’s slumbering form. The older boy’s face was pressed against the opposite window, his mouth hanging open slightly, his messy black hair covering his eyes. Lance snorted, turning back towards his window, wringing his hands slightly as the car jerked forward and Shiro let out a soft curse.

Lance exhaled again, playing with one of the colored bands on his left wrist, pulling the yellowed rubber band back, stretching it as far as it would go before it threatened to break, before letting it go, before letting it smack against his wrist harshly. _It’s getting back again, Lance… Isn’t it? You know, you can tell me… you can talk to me if it gets too bad…_

Lance cleared his throat, pushing himself away from the window, shoving his jacket sleeves down passed the bands as he scooted towards the middle seat. He bit his bottom lip and stilled slightly as Keith shifted besides him. _Oh no._ Keith’s face twisted slightly, his eyebrows drawing together as he let out a soft groan, and Lance held his breath. _Please, Keith… don’t wake up…_

_Lance’s back was pressed against the bulletin board behind him. He was flipping through one of Keith’s old books slowly, a faint smile forming on his lips as he watched Keith trying to sign whatever sentence was written on his homework. The younger boy closed the book, placing it on the desk next to him as his phone buzzed against his leg._

_“What are you trying to sign?” Lance asked softly, glancing down at his phone. Lacey’s name popped up on the screen and Lance pressed ignore, looking back towards Keith. Lance had about twenty minutes before he was supposed to meet her at Alliro Coffeehouse to go over their Chemistry assignment for Thursday’s class._

_Keith crossed his legs, pulling his textbook closer, “I don’t even fucking know.”_

_Lance chuckled, “Well, if you’re trying to say that, you’re doing a terrible job…”_

_Keith sighed loudly, running a hand through his hair. He leaned back against the wall, his head pressing against one of the green thumbtacks holding up his class schedule. It had taken nearly an hour for Shiro to come get them, then another two before they were able to fix his bike… this meant Keith only had the evening to study for his exam tomorrow morning. And at this rate, he was going to fail._

_Keith groaned loudly, closing his eyes as pressure slowly began to make its way behind his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to reelevate some of the tension, because a headache was the last thing he needed right now._

_Lance stood, gripping his phone in his hand, reaching for his blue bookbag that was somehow crammed under the twin bed. He threw the crappy bag on the mattress before stretching, touching the light hanging on the ceiling above him. He heard Keith groan and turned his attention back towards the other side of the room. The older boy looked beyond tired… and stressed, on edge. He’d been that way since they got back earlier this afternoon, since the incident last night…_

_“Can I ask you a question?”_

_Keith cleared his throat, “If I say no, will that stop you?”_

_The older boy opened his eyes slowly, watching as Lance reached for some of his textbooks, shoving them in his bag slightly. Lance glanced towards him, his phone vibrating again, “Probably not.”_

_Keith nodded, “Sure.”_

_Lance reached for a yellow notebook, flipping through it before ripping out a few pages, “Can you feel them coming? The panic attacks?”_

_Keith swallowed. He had hoped Lance would forget about last night, about the fight, about Keith’s breakdown… about the kiss…_

_The 19-year-old pressed his lips together as he continued to watch Lance shove books in his backpack. He looked down at the scars on his hands, tracing over the smooth burned flesh, swallowing loudly. No one had ever asked him that before… it was kind of a weird question._

_Lance cleared his throat, zipping his bag shut, “You don’t have to, man. I just-”_

_“Yeah,” Keith said, looking back up, digging his nails into the cardboard backing of his textbook, “I can feel them coming… but I can’t stop it. No matter how hard I try to think about something else, or how hard I try to relax… I just can’t. My skin, it starts to burn, to itch, and I feel sick and dizzy. I can’t breathe. My body… it stops working and it feels like-”_

_“You’re drowning,” Lance swallowed. Keith glanced towards him, confusion etched on his face as he nodded slowly. Lance glanced down at his phone again as it vibrated in his hand. Lacey. He let his thumb hover over the ‘talk’ button, biting his lip harshly. He hadn’t seen his girlfriend for two weeks… but, for some reason, Lance really didn’t want to deal with her today. He watched, shifting his bag in his hand, as the screen went black, before a small box popped up, letting him know he had missed a call. Five calls… all from her._

_The 18-year-old thumbed through his contacts, stopping at her number. It feels like you’re drowning… but you don’t know how to get out of the water, he thought. Lance dropped his bag and turned his phone off before slipping it in his pocket slowly. He sighed loudly, running his hand through his hair as he glanced back towards Keith, a small smirk painting his face, “So, honestly Mullet, what were you trying to sign?”_

Keith shifted again, pulling his red hoodie closer as Lance fiddled with his hands nervously. The last thing he needed, the last thing he wanted right now, was for Keith to wake up… for Keith to have another panic attack… because of him.  

“He’ll be out for a few hours… trust me,” Shiro said softly.

 Lance looked up, licking his lips slightly as Shiro looked back, a reassuring smile plastered to his face. The younger boy nodded slowly, relaxing as Keith began to still next to him, letting out a loud sigh. Lance ran another hand through his hair. The 18-year-old grabbed the water bottle sitting in the front seat cup holder, unscrewing the cap slowly, before taking a long drink.

“So, Lance, what exactly do you think of my brother?”

Lance choked, coughing loudly as water blocked his airways, his face turning red from lack of oxygen and… embarrassment. He felt water drip from his chin and wiped at it quickly, hoping to keep it from reaching the floor. He glanced up shakily as he forced air down his burning throat, tears filling his eyes as he struggled to breathe properly. _What do you think of Keith. What do you think of Keith? What do you think of Keith!_

“Ex-excuse me?” He said shakily, screwing the cap back on and glancing at Keith to make sure the older boy hadn’t heard him. He looked back towards the windshield, pressing his shoulders against the passenger and driver seat so his head was between Shiro and Allura, still sucking down air shallowly. Shiro chuckled loudly as Allura smacked his arm, “I’m only kidding, Lance. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Lance let out a loud sigh, loosening his grip on the plastic bottle and letting his head fall slightly, trying to hide the heated red flushed across his face. The car jerked again, and Lance peered through the dirty glass, a green road sign passing by the black car, letting Lance know they were 134 miles from wherever in the hell they were going. He wasn’t really sure why he had agreed to accompany Shiro and Keith on a weekend road trip home… maybe it had something to do with Shiro being an impeccably smooth-talker, or Keith’s endless begging for him not to come…  but regardless the reason, Lance was currently trapped in a small black car with two Koganes and one Allura… heading somewhere.

Lance leaned forward further, focusing the front seat air vent towards him, hoping the ancient car had enough airflow to reach his sweaty face. He swallowed, leaning back against the seat behind him, clasping the water bottle in his hands. A smile crossed his face as he watched Shiro extend his right hand slightly, resting it over the empty cup holder as Allura’s fingers intertwined with his, her thumb running over the metal prosthetic hand gently. _No one will love you like that… you’re just in the way, Lance._

The 18-year-old cleared his throat, “So, it’s your dad’s birthday?”

“Yeah,” Shiro nodded, “Ever since the accident, mom has this thing where she makes a big deal out of every holiday and birthday. Keith hates it.”

Lance pushed his sleeves up slightly, wiping at some of the sweat forming on his face, “Why? It sounds nice.”

Shiro let go of Allura’s hand, flipping on his left blinker, “It’s a long story… but uh, something happened last year with his mom. He doesn’t talk about it much…”

Lance scooted forward, pressing his shoulders against the cloth seats again as confusion masked his face, “Wait. His mom?”

Shiro cleared his throat, “Yeah bud. You know Keith and I aren’t actually related, right? We’re stepbrothers. His dad married my mom when I was like 12.”

“Holy shit,” Lance ran a hand over his face again. Honestly, he hadn’t known. Shiro and Keith looked so similar. Allura laughed softly before turning to face Lance, “I hadn’t known either, Lance. Keith brought it up one year when I was spending Christmas with them.”

“Yeah, I guess we look alike… or we did before everything,” Shiro came to a red light, turning towards Lance and smirking slightly, “Keith was the angriest little 7-year-old I had ever met. It was kind of adorable… in a little kid kind of way. He kept trying to act all tough and mighty, like he was bigger than he was, but it was hard to take the kid seriously because he was missing two front teeth and always covered in Power Rangers band-aids.” 

Lance snorted. He cleared his throat, wiping the back of his hands on his jeans. Sweat was still forming on his body, which was weird considering he didn’t get hot easily, but ever since Spring hit, the weather had changed drastically. Hot sunny days Lance was used too, growing up on the coast… but this, this was a different type of heat. It was hot and heavy, humid and sweaty. It sucked.

Shiro turned back towards the road, running a hand through his hair as he changed lanes, “I’ll never forget this one time. I think I was 14. I was walking home from school and some of these kids from my class were following me. They had a problem with me for some reason and when I was a few houses from mine, they jumped me. I mean, they just started wailing on me, and I remember I glanced towards our door, hoping our dad was home because I couldn’t break free. But next thing I know, here comes Keith, in a white tank top and Scooby-Doo shorts, swinging a wooden bat. I mean, the kid just starts hitting them and they all started scattering, running everywhere. Keith’s chasing after them, swinging his bat, threatening them,” Shiro laughed loudly, “He had to have been about 9, but he wasn’t scared of them. He’s always kind of been like that, you know? Fearless.”

Lance turned towards Keith, smirking. It wasn’t hard to picture Keith as a rough and tough little kid… he had the same attitude now. Hard and stubborn on the outside, afraid to show the world who he really was. _I thought we could be friends…_

Shiro cleared his throat, glancing in the rearview mirror briefly, “Did he tell you he used to smoke?”

Lance turned back towards the front, raising an eyebrow, “Really?”

Shiro nodded, “Yeah, quit shortly after his mom.”

Lance shivered slightly, the sweat drying against his skin as the cold air forced itself free from the vents in the front of the car loudly. He leaned back slowly, letting silence hang heavy in the air as the low hum of the car echoed around them. He glanced down at the multi-colored bands on his arm, hiding some of the scars, tracing his thumb over the blue one gently. He swallowed lightly before pulling his sleeves back over his arms and leaning his head against the headrest. _You think Sebastian smoking and drinking is just him? No. It’s all you, Lance. They might forgive you, but I never will…_

“Shiro?” He asked softly, watching as the older boy glanced towards him in the rearview mirror, “Yeah bud?”

Lance bit his lip, “C-can I ask you a question? It’s kind of weird and personal; I’m just curious.”

Shiro’s eyes flicked back towards the road briefly as he flipped on the headlights, before looking back towards the mirror, “Anything.”

“When Keith, um… when did he come out? I mean, your mom and dad, and you-,” Lance trailed off. _How did they take it? Why do you want to know? Why do you care?_  

Shiro turned his attention back towards the road, sighing heavily. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, wavering just below the visor, making it hard to see the road properly, gleaming off the neon signs around them. The older boy glanced towards Allura, smiling softly, watching her tuck some hair behind her ear again, pulling sunglasses and Twizzlers from her bag on the floor. He ran a hand through his hair slowly, “Honestly Lance, I think I always knew. Keith’s always been Keith, you know?”

Shiro glanced towards the backseat. Lance’s eyes were fixed on the road, his fingers messing with the bottom of his zipper on his green hoodie. Shiro bit his lip, “He came out to me first… he was 17. Honestly, I don’t really know what happened but whatever it was, it really fucked him up. He got wasted one night at this party and tried to sneak into the house through my window… He was a complete mess.”

Lance scooted back towards his side of the car, pulling his knees and feet up on the seat next to him. He pressed his head against the window again, letting sweat begin to creep on his face once more, the cold glass chilling the back of his neck. Shiro swallowed loudly, “I, uh, it was the worst night of my life.”

Lance sucked in a low breath, swallowing the worry that started to climb his throat as he glanced towards the back of Shiro’s head. He didn’t think Shiro of all people… Shiro let out a shaky breath and Allura ran a hand through his hair softly, mumbling something that Lance couldn’t catch. Silence filled the car again, filling the awkward, sweaty spaces around them as Lance shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, shifting slightly. He shouldn’t have asked… that wasn’t the answer he had wanted. _You’ve fucked up this family so much, and now, now this! You’re pathetic…_

The car groaned loudly as it came to a slow stop and Lance looked to his left, watching an elderly woman pushing a stroller passed them. He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping to rub the tension beginning to build there, biting his lip as the car pressed forward. Shiro cleared his throat, “Lance, I want you to understand something. It was the worst night of my life not because Keith had come out- it would never ever be because of that. Ever. But… it was the worst night of my life, because I felt like the world’s shittiest brother. I mean Keith, the kid was a complete mess, and he was so nervous, he was so scared… it broke my heart.”

Shiro tightened his grip on the steering wheel, “He thought I would hate him… that we would hate him, that we would stop loving him because of who he was. It broke my heart that he would ever think that… that somehow, somewhere along the line we had unconsciously created an environment that would bring him to a conclusion like that, or someone had planted that idea in his head. Because, honestly, that would never ever happen. Because no matter what, I would always be his big brother; mom and dad would always be his parents- nothing he could ever say or do would change that, ever… Lance, it was the worst night of my life because on that day, on that night, I felt like I had failed as an older brother.”

Lance pressed his back against the seat, letting the sticky sweat soak into his too thick jacket, drip from his neck, disappearing beneath his shirt. He pressed his hand against his thigh again, digging into the flesh, hoping to stop the tears that threatened to swell in his eyes. _They might be able to forgive you Lance, for Jamie, for everything… but I won’t, I can’t. Lexi can’t look at you, Sebastian can’t talk to you. You’ve fucked this family up so much. And now, now this! Honestly Lance, the wrong brother died…_

Beside him, Keith shifted slightly, and Lance swallowed, wishing he could reach over and grasp the older boy’s hand, wishing he could go back to that night in the playhouse when Keith had shown Lance a softer side of himself, wishing he could take comfort in Keith’s pain instead of drowning in his own. _You’re going to break again, McClain… You’re going to break because you’re slowly drowning…_

Shiro sighed again, reaching over to grab some Twizzlers from Allura, before his eyes flicked back up at the rearview mirror, “I never understood why people, family especially, could ever make a person feel that way about themselves. I never understood how a family could make someone feel so alone. So isolated. So hated. You know what I mean, Lance?”

Lance looked up, his blue eyes meeting Shiro’s briefly before he looked away, gritting his teeth, watching the sun setting on the other side of the passenger window. It looked so peaceful, so friendly, soft and elegant… but it was a lie. It was all a beautiful lie, hidden behind a burning gas of unforgiving heat that could burn away wings, melt away emotions, drowning its victims in an endless and unbreathable hell. Lance closed his eyes and touched the rubber bands on his wrist, swallowing loudly. _I know all too well… This is all your fault._

 ……………………………………………………………………………..

 Out of all the endless objects Lance McClain had imagined to litter Keith’s childhood bedroom, rocks were not one of them. But passed the wall decorated in dorky Star Wars posters, passed the horrendous collage of multitudinous pictures taped to closet doors, and passed the loosely strung planets hanging in the left corner, sitting on top of an old-looking bookshelf in Keith’s 9x9 square foot bedroom, sat seven medium rocks. The rocks, however, weren’t what captured Lance’s interest. Instead, it was the googly eyes glued to each of them, in pairs of two, angled towards the door so they were the first thing you saw when you entered.

The 18-year-old dropped his bag on the floor slowly, pulling his jacket from his body as he inched closer towards the bookshelf, a smile toying with his lips as he touched one of the rocks. He shivered as his fingers traced over the cold stone, stopping slightly near some dried glue, letting his thumb ghost over one of the plastic eyes gently, hoping his touch wouldn’t force the eye off. He smirked before stepping back slowly as he glanced around the room.

Keith’s tiny dorm was messy, disorganized and vacant. He didn’t have any pictures up, no posters or cards from home, nothing that really resembled his interests, his hobbies, or himself. He just had books, piles and piles of worn and torn books, littered with messy handwriting that Lance had only assumed was Keith’s. But his room…

Lance closed his eyes slowly, pressing his hand against the wall, letting his fingers trace over the old posters, breathing deeply as he took in the warm smell of cinnamon and grass. Keith’s bedroom was different; it felt different; it looked different. The cracks and crevices, walls and floor told an old story, harbored by memories of a life Lance didn’t and wouldn’t know. Unlike the plain walls surrounding them back at Keith’s dorm, the walls surrounding them here, wore the things that the older boy found interesting. fascinating… it was so much more than the old books living in Keith’s dorm back at Voltron. This was a part of him… a part of his soul. 

Lance opened his eyes, smiling slightly as he took in every aspect of the room. He grabbed his bag from the floor, placing it on the bottom of the bunkbed, before taking his shoes off slowly. He ran a hand through his hair as he glanced at the top bunk, smirking as his eyes met the weary ones of a rather ancient looking hippo. The gray color had long faded and instead turned a weird off-white, the right arm of the stuffed toy looked like it had once been ripped off then sown back on in bright orange thread; the sticky mark of a band-aid still evident over the wound.

Lance turned back towards the door, peeking his head out slowly, listening to Allura and Shiro talking in another room a few feet away, and water slashing against tile as Keith continued his shower. The younger boy sighed softly, stepping back inside the small room, walking towards the closet doors. The double doors were mirrors… or what was left, behind the amateur assortment of pictures taped to them. Lance let his fingers slide over the photos, one by one, taking in a hidden part of Keith he didn’t know.

There were so many photos; some of Shiro and Keith, some of people Lance couldn’t place, some of Pidge and Matt. The 18-year-old’s eyes stopped on a photo of a young Keith, smiling widely, his bottom tooth missing, ice cream smeared across his chin. In the background, Shiro was hanging off some monkey bars, pointing towards the camera, his mouth opened as if he was yelling. They looked happy, peaceful. Lance smirked. He glanced further down, looking over birthday parties, Christmases, Matt and Shiro playing video games, Pidge with longer hair, people dressed in cosplay, others dressed in formal wear. He glanced past Shiro and Allura from few years ago, two older people Lance assumed were Keith and Shiro’s parents, Keith smoking while leaning against some brick wall, younger Shiro giving Keith a piggyback ride, vacations… family. _We can’t look at you without thinking about him…_

 Lance settled on another photo of an older Keith, laying across some bleachers, sunglasses on, holding a kitten against his chest. He looked only a few years younger than he was now, the burn mark on his right shoulder visible in the bottom of the picture. Lance grinned. Honestly, Keith didn’t seem like a cat person.

Lance jumped slightly as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced down briefly, pressing the small device to his ear as his eyes continued to trace over the photos, “Hello?”

“Lance! Baby! I haven’t seen you in forever!” Lacey yelled. The 18-year-old winced, pulling the phone away from his ear before running his hand through his hair, turning to face the door as Keith came in. Lance swallowed softly, running a hair through his hair as his eyes glanced over the tattoo taking up a majority of Keith’s left side. Normally the other boy wouldn’t let Lance look at it for too long… but lately… lately Keith seemed more comfortable around him. It was nice.  

Keith nodded towards him, drying his hair with a blue towel before plopping down on the bottom bunk. He leaned his head against the wall behind him, letting his right foot hang off the bed as he threw the dirty towel on the ground. The older boy folded his arms over his chest slightly, shivering as the cold air pricked against his naked chest. Normally he’d put a shirt on but considering Lance had already seen the tattoo and the burns, and the fact that Lance was standing in front of the closet where his shirts were, Keith was stuck in some old sweatpants he’d found in the bathroom until Lance decided to move.

He ran a hand through his hair, groaning loudly as Lance pressed the phone against his ear once more. He swallowed softly, pulling his feet up on the bed as Lacey’s name left Lance’s lips. Keith closed his eyes slowly, pressing his head harder against the plastered wall. It wasn’t surprising the other boy was talking to her… after all, she was Lance’s girlfriend. _It meant nothing… good, I have a girlfriend. I thought you seemed cool…_

Keith clenched his fist momentarily as Lance laughed, before sitting up, crossing his legs and running his hands over his wet hair, shaking out the remaining water. Lance had stopped coming to his dorm about a week ago and according to Hunk, had been spending a lot of time with Lacey. Honestly, Keith didn’t mind this much considering it was giving him time to clear his head, and he had been working doubles almost every other day… but he missed having Lance around. It was kind of nice to come home to Lance washing his face, or reading some Manga, or passed out on the other bed, Keith’s blankets piled on top of him. _I thought we could be friends._

Keith groaned again, pressing the palms of his hands into the sockets of his eyes, hunching over slightly. It wasn’t any secret Lance was fucking with his mind, but ever since Lance started hanging out with his girlfriend more and more, Keith couldn’t get Lance out of his head… the party… the park… fuck, every detail, every time… _Lance’s slender fingers ghosting up his neck slowly, and Keith shivered, pulling the other boy closer towards him as the music changed. He felt Lance’s lips break apart, the other boy taking a breath, his fingers running through his hair softly as Keith pressed his hand against the back of Lance’s neck, his thumb on his cheek, pulling him down slightly…Peppermints._ The older boy let out a sigh, grabbing his towel from the floor, glancing towards Lance. He had hoped this weekend would give him a chance to get Lance out of his head completely, but thanks to Shiro’s pushy attitude, Keith was stuck with him until Monday… at least Lacey wasn’t here. He hadn’t met her yet, but he’d heard things from Hunk and Pidge… 

The 19-year-old dried his hair again before throwing his towel towards Lance. He laughed softly as it smacked the younger boy in the back of the head, cutting him off mid-sentence. Lance flinched, glaring towards the bunk bed to see Keith standing slowly, “Fuck you, Kogane.”

“Gladly,” Keith snorted, pulling himself on the top bunk, reaching for a book on the shelf next to him. He flipped through in unconsciously, eyeing Lance out of the corner of his eye, feeling his face heating up slowly. Lance paused, smirking slightly before flipping him off. He cleared his throat, “Sorry, Lace.”

Lacey exhaled slowly, “Kogane? So… You’re with that Keith guy? How long?”

“Just a few days, babe. I’ll be back Monday,” Lance said, turning towards the pictures again, looking over the photos once more, his eyes pausing on one in the top right corner. The younger boy pressed his fingers against the photo, tracing over the woman featured in it. Unlike the other pictures glued to the closet doors, this one looked old… older than the others, worn out, fragile. It was bent, white lines gridding across the paper as if it had been folded and crumpled many times, the left corner burned slightly. Lance smoothed it out gently, leaning closer to get a better look.

“Well…” Lacey huffed, “Next time, tell me if you plan on going away for a few days… especially with that Kogane guy. He’s bad news, Lance, trust me- Brad was telling me about him and just, he’s not right… but his older brother is different, nicer, han- better. And that Allura girl is so lucky. Anyway, like I was saying, Jess and I went to the mall the other day and-”

Lance swallowed, tuning Lacey out as she continued to drone on about something she had seen at the mall or something. He squinted slightly as he continued to stare at the old photograph. The woman was young, maybe late teens or early twenties… and from what Lance could tell, she was talking to someone or something not pictured, which was weird because the woman was clearly facing the direction of the object. She was laying on her stomach, propping her head up on her elbows, her tongue sticking out, her black hair dusting past her shoulders, a bright purple streak standing out against the black…   

“Lance?”

The 18-year-old shook his head, stepping back from the photo slowly as he focused once more on Lacey’s voice, “Uh, yeah?”

Lacey groaned softly, “You weren’t even listening, were you?”

“Sorry, babe,” Lance said, picking up the towel at his feet, “Look- Lace. I-I gotta go. Ill talk to you later, okay?”

“Fine. Bye, Lance. Love you.”

“You too,” Lance whispered.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

_“Lance?”_

_The 16-year-old glanced up, his fingers shaking slightly as they grasped at the white cotton hem on the bottom of his shirt. He swallowed slowly, glancing around at the small circle of people sitting near him, all of them staring at him, watching, waiting for him to speak. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be here… anywhere._

_“Lance? Do you want to share anything with us today?”_

_The teenager’s eyes connected with a small blonde woman sitting across from him. Her frail fingers clasped a notepad, pen wavering between her index finger and thumb as she tapped it slowly against the clipboard, the sound echoing throughout the tiny cold room. He shook his head, looking back down at his arms._

_“You’ve been here with us for nearly three weeks and you haven’t yet talked to us. Talked about what happened… what you tried to do,” She said softly. Lance flinched, his fingers tracing over the clean white bandages wrapped tightly around his left wrist, “There’s nothing to talk about.”_

_The woman sighed, “I don’t believe that, Lance.”_

_“I don’t care what you believe,” He said quietly. The 16-year-old dug his index finger under the bandage, biting the inside of his cheek as his nail pierced the fresh line hiding beneath the wraps._

_“I think you’re hiding,” She said slowly, her chair screeching loudly as the metal pegs moved across the tiled floor, “I think you hide because you don’t want the world to know how hurt you are. I think you have a lot of pain, and group can be a good way for us to help you overcome some of that. Lance, you’re here because of the incident, because of the outburst at the hospital- you’re here because your parents are worried about you. Your family is worried that something like this will happen again.”_

_Lance snorted, pressing his fingers harder against his flesh as he glanced up. The woman had moved her chair closer… hell, the whole damned group seemed to have moved closer. The teenager swallowed, “That’s why you think I’m here? You’re wrong.”_

_The woman sighed, pressing her notepad against her legs, “Am I? Lance, you checked yourself in here shortly after you were released from the hospital. You refuse to see anyone from your family but yet, you refuse to open up to us. This is a safe place, Lance. But we can’t help you if you don’t let us. I think you’re here because you blame yourself for what happened to Jamie. But Jamie-”_

_“Don’t say his name,” Lance growled, his fingers slipped from his wrist as he made eye contact with the blonde woman. She paused, looking down at Lance’s fingers resting against his thigh, the tips of them wet and sticky, dark red running under his nails. Her lips thinned harshly, forming a tight line across her face, “Fine. Lance, I think you resort to pain as an outlet because you think you deserve to be punished in some way for what happened. But what happened to Ja- your brother… it wasn’t your fault. The Doctors, your parents, they said he went under, he hit his head-”_

_Lance shook his head, swallowing harshly as he leaned back in his chair, glancing towards the small window on the opposite side of the room. The glass was foggy, making anything outside, barely visible to the viewer. Bars lined the window, large enough to be able to open the stupid thing for fresh air, but small enough that it would make it impossible for someone to leave, to escape… to jump._

_The teenager looked down at his arm briefly, frowning slightly as he noticed the dark red beginning to bleed through the white bandages, staining it, making it harder to hide, making it harder to fix. He sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair as he glanced around the small group. Most of the people here were older than him… by a decade or a few. And many of them had been here a long time- a lot of them more messed up than he was, than he felt. He just couldn’t go back. Not right now… not after what happened… not after Alexander. It’s all your fault._

_“… He died on impact. His body was gone before you found him,” The woman said softly, her chair now a few inches from his. Lance grit his teeth, “That’s not what happened.”_

_He looked back towards her as confusion crossed her face, “It is, Lance. You told the Doctors, your parents-”_

_“I lied,” The 16-year-old growled, his fists clenching tightly as memories slowly started to crash over him, forcing his thoughts elsewhere as he broke eye contact. He felt anger flowing over him as his mind flashed to Jamie’s face, and he bit his bottom lip, pressing his right fist against his thigh, hoping the Psychologist wouldn’t noticed._

_“What are you talking about, Lance?” She said slowly, writing something on the yellowed paper. She glanced back up, shaking her head carefully towards one of the orderlies who had stepped forward when they had noticed the small blood droplets coating the floor. The orderly leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as he let the session continue._

_Lance cleared his throat, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt as he looked back towards the woman, “What happened. What I told them- it… it didn’t happen like that. Not exactly…”_

_This is all your fault… it will always be your fault, Lance._

Lance jerked awake, air scraping against his throat as it was forced from his lungs in rough sporadic waves. He choked, pushing against something behind him as he struggled to break free, as he struggled to gain his composure, as he struggled to breathe. His arms felt restricted, felt confined, and the 16-year-old let out a strangled noise as he kicked at the blankets covering his legs. It was too warm. No, it was too hot… and it was fucking claustrophobic; air refusing to enter his lungs as memories washed over him and he pressed his hand against his thigh as it started shaking. _Fuck. Fuck! He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t-_

The 18-year-old pressed his back harder against something warm and he sucked in a quivering breath, pressing chin against his knees as he drew them closer towards his chest. He was breathing fast, hard, the air not quite making it to his aching lungs, not quite making it through his veins, not quite reminding him that he was alive. He felt something dripping down his cheeks, splattering against his kneecaps, soaking into the plaid sweatpants he had borrowed from Keith… before it hit him. He was crying. He had been for a while, probably in his sleep too.

The teenager let out a choked sob, curling in further on himself as he glanced down at his wrists, his tired eyes peering through the unforgiving darkness, connecting with the even darker scars painting his flesh. He pressed his fingertips against them gently, numbness present under the scarred skin, making it impossible to feel his fingers pressed against the warm lines, making it impossible to feel anything, anything except the pain that surrounded his heart.

Lance cried loudly, pressing his hand against his mouth harshly as he tried to block out the noise, as he tried to concentrate on anything else, as he tried to stop the hurt, the memories coursing through him. He blinked slowly, wiping roughly at his eyes as tears filled his vision again, running down his face in waves, and he let his head fall back. He took a small breath, closing his eyes as he breathed deeply, his nostrils filling with a familiar scent… filling with the scent of grass... fresh-cut grass and sweat…

Lance swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek, stopping himself from whimpering again as a soft voice met his ears and he opened his eyes slowly. His eyes connected with something glowing in the left corner of the bedroom and the 18-year-old squinted, wiping again at the tears still sitting in his eyes. A faint smile toyed with his lips and he let out a half-choked cry as he realized the stupid glowing circle, was the sun… or a cheap replica of one. The small orb was swinging slightly from the fan in the middle of the ceiling, the planets surrounding it, the moon, Earth, Mars, Saturn, others, all glowing brightly in different colors. It was childish… hell, it was dorky… but right now, right now, it was the only thing lighting the darkness that filled the room. It was the only thing Lance had that could keep the demons lurking in the shadows at bay.

He swallowed again, trying to clear his throat as he continued to stare at the cheap replica, his body slowly beginning to relax, his hand slowly staring to still. He coughed loudly, letting out a small whimper as he felt arms that didn’t belong to him tighten slightly, pulling his back closer to someone’s chest, and the teenager let out a soft sob as he realized someone was holding him. Someone was holding him upright, his back pressed against their chest, their heartbeat pounding against his spine, their arms wrapped around his torso tightly, comfortingly, as he realized someone had been with him this whole time, had probably been even before he had woken up. He stilled slightly, goosebumps pricking his skin as tears filled his eyes again, dripping from his chin as he grasped at the hands wrapped around his middle, as he realized it was Keith.

Lance choked loudly, letting out a loud sob as he sucked in short breaths. He felt Keith’s arms around his chest move slightly, flinching slightly as he pulled the younger boy as close as he could, his chin pressed against Lance’s shoulder lightly, reminding the 18-year-old that he wasn’t alone. That he hadn’t been alone.

The younger boy’s chest heaved as he continued to cry, his head falling back against Keith’s shoulder. He let the tears fall freely, memories cloud his mind, his eyes fixated on the planets. Lance’s hand grasped tightly around Keith’s warm fingers as the older boy continued to sing to him softly, his voice light- almost in audible; his voice the only anchor Lance had that kept him from drowning, “… I like that you’re broken. Broken like me. Maybe that makes me a fool. I like that you’re lonely. Lonely like me. I could be lonely with you…”


	8. My Love Echoing Around You,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a storm coming,  
> It hides inside us.  
> But as the sky darkened,  
> And the first rain fell,  
> I breathed you deeply in,  
> Drowning silently,  
> In your beautiful pain.   
> My love echoing around you,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Sorry this is so long- I didn't want to break it into ANOTHER chapter. Please PLEASE read with caution because this chapter deals with heavy wordplay of/ with dark themes. Also, Chapter 9 is going to HURT- super excited for it because shit is gunna go down :) poor klance. Okay, please be careful and safe! Thank you for reading and staying with me through the whole "I swear Ill post this week" (I need a little more discipline in that area haha). Thanks for the comments :)  
> Stay safe!  
> -KB

Breakfast, as it turns out, was a big deal at the Kogane household. According to Shiro on the car ride up, every Saturday before their mother went to work, she forced the boys to wake up early and pick fresh fruit in the garden while she made pancakes. Supposedly, this had started as a form of punishment when Keith had annoyed their mom by refusing to leave the kitchen one morning when she was trying to get some alone time with their father; that and the fact that Keith refused to eat anything but cereal for a whole year. However, over the years, it slowly became a tradition the whole household looked forward to every weekend. This, Lance realized, as he slowly emerged from Keith’s bedroom to the smell of bacon wafting through the hallway and the sound of Shiro’s voice echoing off the walls.

Despite waking up sometime around 3am, the 18-year-old had slept rather well, the faint smell of Keith still lingering on his _Tokyo Ghoul_ t-shirt. He ran a hand through his messy brown hair as he pulled the old door open slowly, squinting slightly as sunlight pierced his eyes, and the teenager stood there for a while, listening to Shiro’s conversation.

Lance smiled as he glanced back towards the room, walking back inside the tiny bedroom, grabbing his green jacket thrown across a desk chair. He paused for a moment, embarrassment washing over him as his eyes connected with the bunk he had been occupying. Keith’s stuffed hippo was pressed against the back corner, sitting lopsided like it had been placed there unwillingly, like he was forced to watch over him…

_“So, dude, what’s with the Hippo? Aren’t you a little old for stuffed animals?” Lance asked, pulling an arm behind him as he tried to get comfortable. Keith scoffed loudly, the old mattress shifting slightly, “Don’t talk about Henry like that, McClain.”_

_Lance snorted, pressing his feet against the bottom of the top bunk, “The Hippo?”_

_Keith shifted again before leaning over the bed, his black hair covering his face as he looked down at Lance, “Yeah. My dad got him in at an airport when I was like 4. You got a problem with it?”_

_Lance turned on his side, smirking, as Keith leaned further over the bed, and the younger boy wondered momentarily if he had ever fallen off. The 18-year-old shook his head, laughing softly, “No, Keefers. I don’t have a problem with it. Henry the Hippo… it fits.”_

Lance smirked before glancing towards the top bunk, a small frown forming on his lips when he found it empty. He pressed his hand against the pillow only to be met with cold soft material. Keith had been up for a while… or maybe, he hadn’t slept on the top bunk at all…

_…Keith tightened his grip around Lance’s chest, and the younger boy could feel Keith’s heartbeat quicken as he took a shallow breath. His head pressed against Lance’s neck, his hair tickling the 18-year-old’s skin as he let out another choked sob, grasping at Keith’s warm fingers, memories from his nightmare running through his mind. Lance let his tired legs fall against Keith’s as the older boy continued to sing softly. It was comforting…_

Lance stilled, swallowing repetitively, his pulse racing as red flushed across his cheeks, forming sweat against the back of his neck, last night’s memories rushing back to him. He’d thought it was a dream… hell, he was sure it was a dream. But if it wasn’t, then… _Shit!_

A bang sounded from the kitchen as something metal crashed to the ground, followed by Allura laughing loudly. Lance jerked his head towards the door roughly, rushing into the hallway, his breath quickening as he came into the bright yellow kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, gasping slightly as bright vibrant sunflowers greeted him. Yellow wallpaper covered most of the tiny kitchen, popping against the dark oak cabinets, clashing with a stocky older woman standing in flowery orange scrubs at the stove. He blinked slowly; he’d never seen so many fucking flowers. At least, not in the same room.

The 18-year-old directed his attention towards Shiro kneeling on the ground, cleaning up what looked like a failed attempt to flip a pancake in the air, only to throw both the pancake and pan on the floor. Allura was sitting at the counter, wiping at tears flowing down her face as she laughed again, her pink phone shaking in her fingers, “That was by far the worst attempt I have ever seen.”

Shiro snorted, “Shut up. It wasn’t that bad.”

“No, no, honey,” Allura continued, wheezing slightly, “It really was. You were all, ‘watch what I can do, babe,’ and then you basically threw the whole thing on the floor. Oh my God, I can’t believe I got that all on camera…”

She continued to laugh, doubling over slightly as she glanced towards her phone. Lance chuckled softly as Shiro groaned, looking up towards the teenager, “Oh, hey Lance. How’d you sleep?”

The woman standing at the stove turned at the mention of Lance’s name, a huge smile covering her face as she threw her spatula down, rushing towards the younger boy, “Oh, honey, I’m so glad you made it this weekend! Shiro has told me so much about you!”

Lance flinched slightly as she pulled him into a warm hug before a smile broke out on his face. He stumbled, his legs almost weak from the gesture and he locked his knees to keep from falling on the shorter woman. He relaxed as she pulled away, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, “Lance, honey. I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m Himari, or Mari, or Mrs. Kogane, whichever you like. I’m just so excited, I’ve never met one of Keith’s college friends.”

Lance laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair as he took a seat next to Allura, placing his jacket on the empty chair next to him. He pressed his elbows against the white countertop as she turned back towards the stove, moving some bacon around, steam rising slightly from the hot griddle, oil popping against the yellow backsplash. _I thought we could be friends…_

“You’ll have to forgive her, Lance. She had five cups of coffee this morning, so she’s a bit over-excited,” Shiro whispered, leaning in, before placing the broken pan in the sink next to him. Mrs. Kogane turned around, smacking his arm with the plastic spatula, “Stop it.”

Shiro grinned slightly before turning back towards Lance, “Also, beware of the sugar cubes at the back of the silverware drawer. That’s basically her crack, so, touch it and she’ll kill you.”

Mrs. Kogane smacked her son’s arm again, “Takashi! What did I say?”

Shiro laughed loudly as he turned back towards his mother, giving her an innocent look, “I’m just helping him out, Mom. If he’s going to be part of the family for a while, I might as well give him a few warnings.”

“Yeah, you’re a real saint, honey,” She said, shaking her head. She rolled her eyes before leaning against the counter behind her, folding her arms as she turned the griddle off. Shiro chuckled again, walking over to the coffee pot, changing the filter before pouring coffee grinds into the top, pushing brew. He turned back towards the counter as Allura cleared her throat, “Oh believe me, Mari, Shiro is quite the character. After all, I think I have most of his ‘sainthood’ videoed on my phone. I’d love show you sometime.”

Shiro let out an exaggerated groan as he ran a slow hand through his hair, “For the last time, princess, I was trying to flip the pancake in the air. I’ve done it before, you know.”  

Allura laughed softly, pushing herself away from the counter before standing slowly. She stretched, pulling her white hair back into a bun before walking past Shiro, brushing her hand against his shoulder playfully, “I’m sure you have, darling. I’m going to go take a shower.”

Shiro sighed loudly, dropping his head, shaking it gradually as she walked out of the room, still laughing. Mrs. Kogane stepped forward, placing her elbows on the counter in front of Lance, turning towards Shiro, “I like her, Takashi. So, you better not mess it up.”

Lance exhaled softly as Shiro glanced up, pushing away from the counter, coming closer until his hip was pressed against the hard edge. He wiped some crumbs off the granite surface slowly, a smirk breaking out on his face bashfully, “You really like her, Mom?”

His mother nodded, a playful smile shifting over her wrinkled face again, “I would trade both you and Keith in for her.”

Shiro snorted, looking up slowly, his gray eyes meeting his mother’s brown ones, “Well… that’s good, because… because, I’m going to ask her to marry me. Over Spring Break- when we’re in New York.”

Lance watched as Mrs. Kogane’s expression changed drastically, her eyes shining brightly as excitement filled her features. She squealed loudly, pulling her son down into a hug, her hands grasped around his shoulders tightly as the older boy faltered, nearly toppling over. She let out a small laugh as she hugged him tighter, “I’m so happy for you! I’m so excited!”

Shiro grasped the corner of the counter tightly to keep from falling forward, to keep from falling on top of her as she pulled away, her hand caressing his cheek lovingly. She wiped at the tears forming in her eyes as she cleared her throat, “Do you have a ring? Do you want mine? Your father will be so excited! Did you ask Coran for her hand? Oh, I’m so proud-”

The older boy straightened, running a hand over the back of his neck as red momentarily crept across his face, “I don’t have a ring yet. And yes, I was kind of hoping you might have the one from my dad. And yes, mother, I did ask Coran. He, honestly, had the same reaction… which is funny.”

His mother squealed again, “Of course you can have it, honey. Ah! Go tell your father! He’s in the garden with Keith. We’ll talk later, Takashi. I’m just so happy!”   

Shiro laughed softly, running a hand through his hair as he nodded towards Lance awkwardly, before opening the screen door and stepping outside. The older woman turned back towards Lance, shaking her head slowly, a huge smile still painted on her face, “That boy has come a long way from where he used to be. This is just perfect! They’ve been dating for almost three years now…”    

Lance nodded, shifting slightly in his seat as she continued to ramble about her oldest son. He felt awkward, out of place, like he had just witnessed something he shouldn’t have- like he had invaded somehow on a private matter. He felt wrong… but, the unfamiliar emotion plastered around him kept him grounded, kept him glued to the chair he wished he could leave.  It was weird… but, it was also nice. It was nice to see how much she cared about him. Hell, it was nice to see how happy she was. His family wasn’t like this… they might have been, once. But now… now…

_… He coughed loudly, feeling the rough air scrap past his lips as he pried his eyes open to a hellish world. Light blinded him, foreign sounds overpowering his senses for a moment, and Lance wondered slightly if he was going to be sick. He blinked a few times, slowing his breathing as questions raced through his mind. Where was he? What happened?_

_He peered to his left, seeing monitors and posters of things he didn’t recognize. He was in the hospital. Why? He stared at the white ceiling for a minute, trying to remember what happened. Trying to remember how he’d gotten here. He didn’t remember much, just Alexander… just pain… and yelling…_

_He sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair, sucking in a sharp breath as pain shot through his right arm. He looked down at the white bandages that were wrapped around his wrist tightly. He flexed his muscles, curling his fist, watching small red droplets seep through the white innocent dressing. Lance’s hand hovered shakily over the gauze and he took a few shallow breaths before he slowly started unwrapping the ugly bandage._

_Tears welled in his eyes as he stared down at the jagged horizontal lines etched across his tanned skin, questions reeling through his mind. He felt his breathing hitch, finding it hard to breathe, listening to the heart monitor beeping sporadically, matching the harsh breath that barely made it past his dried lips. He pressed shaking fingers against the stitches, ghosting over the heated swollen flesh. And suddenly, like a wave of water crashing over him… he remembered. He remembered everything. He remembered Jamie._

_The 16-year-old slammed his head back against the pillow behind him as memories flooded back to him, tears streaming down his face. He looked down at his other arm, seeing it too was covered in the ugly white. He reached down, ripping the IV out of his hand, swinging his legs over the bed, standing on shaky legs. He needed to leave. He needed to get out of here. He wasn’t supposed to be here! He didn’t want to be here! He sucked in a harsh breath, wiping roughly at the tears that spilled down his face. He couldn’t breathe. The heart monitor was screaming loudly in rapid, uneven beeps, red flashing across the screen and Lance peeled the small sticky disks from his chest roughly, forcing the machine to flatline… wishing it was him, wishing it was silent, wishing everything was silent. He coughed loudly, taking a small step as his legs betrayed him and he smacked harshly against the unforgiving ground._

_“Lance?”_

_Lance looked up, blinking through hazy tears, seeing a blurry image of his mother standing in the doorway, a bewildered expression plastered across her face. He sucked in another harsh breath, fighting against the sick feeling that rose in his stomach, swallowing the acidic taste in his throat. He heard her close the door gently, stepping closer, and he put a hand up to stop her from coming any further into the room. Pain shot through his left wrist as he pushed himself from the ground until he was resting on his knees, “Please… don’t…”_

_He felt his body shaking as he tried sucking in another breath. Tears still dripping down his chin, landing on the speckled floor below him. He needed to leave. He needed to calm down. He needed to get away. He curled in on himself, shutting his eyes, pressing his forehead against the tiled floor, breathing what little air had managed to make it to his aching lungs. Just breathe. Just breathe. It’s okay... No, no, it’s really not…_

“Lance?”

“Huh?” The teenager asked dazedly, directing his attention back towards Mrs. Kogane. He blinked several times, sniffing slightly as the bright yellow kitchen gradually came back into view. He had zoned out… He swallowed against the lump forming in his throat, feeling something cold clasped against his hand and the 18-year-old glanced down. Confusion etched across his face as he studied older pale fingers touching his hand, almost covering it as they gently squeezed his fingers. It took him several minutes to realize he had pressed his hand harshly against the counter… that it had been shaking, that it was still shaking. _Fuck. It’s showing again… it’s only a matter of time before you break, McClain._

He swallowed again, pulling his hand gently from under Mrs. Kogane’s warm grasp, pulling it under the counter, resting it against his thigh, his hand balled into a fist. He pressed his other fingers against his wrist, messing with the rubber bands sitting against the flesh, yanking one back before letting it smack against his skin. He looked up slowly, a forced smile plastered to his face as he tried to look okay, as he tried to feel okay.

Mrs. Kogane swallowed gently, pulling her hand back towards her, giving the teenager a sad smile, “Our whole family has scars, Lance. Please, honey, don’t feel the need to hide yours, especially here. You shouldn’t feel ashamed of your scars- they tell a story. They show what you’ve been through… what you’ve survived.”

Lance sucked in a quick breath, swallowing hard; he was hoping she hadn’t noticed, he was hoping she wouldn’t. He needed one person, just one person on this planet that didn’t know about them, about his family, about the scars, about everything. He wanted one person to not treat him like he was fragile, like he was glass, to think he was normal. He yearned for one person to look past everything, for one person to see him- truly see him- and still want to be around him. To still love him. Just one fucking person on this fucking planet. Anyone. The teenager shook his head, “I haven’t survived anything. Not like Keith. Not like Shiro.”

The older woman nodded slowly, reaching forward, her thumb stroking across Lance’s warm cheek. Lance closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve someone like her. _You honestly think someone on this planet would love you after what you did? After what you’re doing now? You fucked this family up. They might be able to forgive you one day, but I never will…_

“Lance, honey, you survived the hardest thing in the world. You survived yourself.”   

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Lance ran a hand through his hair as he made his way to the small garden at the back of the house. He stopped momentarily, taking in the backyard, smiling at the crooked, half-broken fence barely standing in the far-right corner of the lot. Most of the fence was leaning towards the ground, no longer needed for its original purpose, desperate to mesh with the tall grass, a few posts refusing to join in. A tiny shack was sitting beside it, its roof caving in slightly, the brown wooden door hanging unevenly off its corroded hinges, banging against the outside wall as the wind around it blew past.

The 18-year-old peered to his left, looking past an abandoned bicycle rusting next to what Lance assumed was a gravestone, and towards the cluster of trees that surrounded the back area. He pulled at his jacket loosely as his eyes connected with a treehouse resting peacefully in one of the trees, its wooden planks falling slightly to the branch below as it threatened to fall. It looked shabby and abandoned, and Lance wondered momentarily if it had been Keith’s a long time ago.

Lance glanced back towards the house, and for the first time, noticed a ramp leading into the house next to the front porch. His eyes sat there for a moment, focused on the wooden boards, questions racing through his mind before his vision swept over the small one-story house. The siding, which was probably once red, had faded, coloring the paneled side in uneven pinkish hues. The roof of the house looked as though it had been replaced many times, small pieces of shingles hanging from the gutters, swinging slightly. Many parts of the house seemed old, or at least, on the brink of falling apart as it struggled to stay together. It didn’t look bad or dirty or necessarily unkept… just old.  

Lance cleared his throat, running a hand over the back of his neck as he stopped in front of the small garden, smirking slightly as he noticed Keith bending down, pulling something from the ground, dirt smeared across his face, his shirt disregarded on one of the handles of a muddy wheelbarrow. The 18-year-old swallowed, pushing his sleeves up slowly as the sun that hung overhead beat against his skin, forming sweat across his chest, neck and palms _…_ He wasn’t used to this heat…

_…Lance’s fingers hesitated before trailing through Keith’s hair slowly, and the younger boy let out a soft moan as Keith pressed his body closer to him. His chest pressed against Lance’s, and Keith exhaled lightly, his lips parting briefly as the 18-year-old’s fingers slowly slid down the older boy’s arm…._

Sweat was covering Keith’s shoulders, dripping between his shoulder blades from his black hair and he ran a naked hand across his neck absentmindedly. Dirt was caked randomly across his chest, his arms, mixing with sweat that ran down his torso, trailing in muddy lines down his stomach, soaking into the waist of his jeans. Lance swallowed. Every time Keith bent down to retrieve something, the muscles in his arms and shoulders would flex, making the 18-year-old realize that the shorter guy was probably stronger than he looked. _I thought we could be friends… what the fuck is your problem, McClain!_ Lance let out a small breath, running a hand through his hair slowly, glancing briefly towards the trees again as his face grew hotter. He looked back shyly, a small grin masking his face as he watched Keith squat in front of a tiny plant, pressing fresh dirt around the stem, thumbing a leaf sprouting from the ground gently.

The 18-year-old couldn’t help but smile. It was nice to watch Keith work. It was nice to see how comfortable and at-ease he was… unafraid to be himself, to show the world a different side of him. The real side of him. Here, Keith wasn’t afraid to be outside in the hellish heat without a shirt. Here, Keith didn’t have to hide his hands or act all tough and mighty. Here, Keith didn’t have to hide who he was. Lance wanted that… He wanted an environment like that. He wanted a place he didn’t have to hide, where he didn’t have to lock himself away, where he didn’t have to constantly please the people around him. He wanted a place he could be himself. He wanted someone he could be himself with. 

Lance bit his bottom lip, shoving his hands in his pockets as he continued to watch the older boy work, stepping closer towards the garden. In the sunlight, the red burns that painted across Keith’s back and trailed down both arms looked almost purple, standing out even more against his pale flesh, twisting, warping rudely over his shoulders in knotted unison. Lance shuttered, his eyes tracing over the angry burns distorted against the 19-year-old’s skin, his eyes tracing over scars and burns he hadn’t noticed in the dim light of Keith’s dorm, over a round dent on his left shoulder blade where it look as though something had pierced crudely through the flesh. _What the hell happened to you?_ The teenager stepped forward unconsciously, wincing slightly as his foot connected with a small plant, the dry _crunch_ forcing the older boy to look up.   

Keith stood slowly, turning even more so before freezing as he noticed Lance standing at the edge of the garden. Lance swallowed again, his eyes connecting with the same round wound on the front of Keith’s shoulder. Something _had_ pierced through… _had it been during the wreck?_

Lance ran a hand through his hair, offering a small wave as he glanced briefly at the tattoo on Keith’s side, noticing the black ink stood out even more against the bright light, the purple line tracking the bottom of the blade and purple symbol blending against the small violet scars littering his flesh. Lance bit his bottom lip harshly as he looked up towards Keith, his blue eyes connecting with Keith’s blue-gray ones, dancing to the small faint scar on the bottom of the older boy’s right cheek. He’d known the wreck had been bad, but he hadn’t- he hadn’t known it had been this bad. He just, he could see so much more in the sunlight… more than he wanted to… it hurt Lance’s heart.

Keith ran a hand over his face awkwardly, trying to wipe away any dirt he had covering it as he glanced to his left, saying something to the man behind him as Lance stepped closer. The 18-year-old carefully stepped over the juvenile plants sprouting from the ground as Keith bent down to pick up a small basket of apples. The older boy stood again, holding the basket close to his chest as his breathing caught softly, his face reddening as Lance made his way towards him.

The younger boy smiled towards Keith before stopping in his tracks as an older man came closer towards him. Lance paused, biting his lip again as he forced himself from staring, as he forced his jaw shut, as he watched the older man stop at the edge of the garden. Lance swallowed, glancing towards Keith momentarily before looking back towards the man a few feet in front of him. Lance closed his eyes briefly as he finally understood why the house had a ramp next to the porch. Keith’s dad was in a wheelchair… that made sense. _Ever since the accident, mom has this thing where she makes a big deal out of every holiday and birthday…_ Lance had assumed Shiro had meant the car accident. Keith had never mentioned it before- hell, he hadn’t mentioned anything. 

“You must be Lance! I’m Chris, but everyone calls me Tex, or Mr. Kogane. I would stand to hug you but…” The older man trailed off, a grin masking his lips as he gestured to his chair. He smiled broadly, extending his hand towards Lance. Lance jumped, grabbing it quickly, nodding even more so as he glanced towards Keith once more standing a few feet beside him, biting into one of the apples he was holding. The 19-year-old looked down, kicking at some of the dirt covering his toes as he chewed slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He glanced at the soil caked under his nails as he took another bite, realizing suddenly that he was probably covered in dirt… and he probably smelled like sweat too. _Great._

“I-I am,” Lance added, putting his hands back in his pockets, straightening his posture as his glanced back towards Mr. Kogane. The older man laughed, wiping his palms against his legs, “Well, I’m glad to hear that. From the way Keith talks about you, he seems very fond.”

Behind them, Keith choked, coughing loudly as juice flowed down his throat and he glanced up shyly, red creeping across his overheated face as his eyes connected with Lance’s, “Dad.”

“Oh, come on now, son, don’t tell me I’ve embarrassed you. I’m sure Lance here has already met your mother and I’m sure your brother has filled her in, so I just wanted this young man to know we’ve been talking about him,” The man said, turning to look at Keith before glancing back towards Lance, winking at him.

The younger boy felt his face heat up as he heard Keith groan, feeling suddenly exposed, feeling suddenly awkward. He laughed nervously as he took his jacket off slowly, throwing it on top of Keith’s shirt hastily. It was really freaking hot outside. Too freaking hot.

Lance gulped, twisting the blue band on his wrist between his fingers as he glanced between Keith and his dad. It took him a few minutes to realize that Shiro looked more like Keith’s dad than Keith did. In fact, they looked so similar that Lance would have never guessed the two families weren’t related by blood. Shiro had Mr. Kogane’s bone structure, the same chin, the same forehead, the same nose, hell, even the same build… but Keith? Well, Keith had his eyes… but honestly, that was it. The 18-year-old’s mind flashed to the damaged photo of the young woman he had seen taped to the closet door last night. _Was she Keith’s mom? His real mom? Come to think of it, Keith did look like her…_

“Well, Lance, you can help out in the garden, if you’d like,” The man said, pulling Lance from his thoughts, “Keith can show you the ropes; he’s been doing this since he was 13. Unfortunately, I can’t help him out like I used to, but he almost has the hang of it… that is, if he’d stop killing his mother’s tomato plants.” 

Lance smirked, glancing back towards Keith as the older boy groaned, nearly dropping the apple he was holding, “For the last time, Dad, I told you, that isn’t me. They’re planted in the wrong spot and can’t get any water.”

“Uh huh, sure. Excuses, excuses. Lance, I hope you don’t have to deal with him much at school,” The older man joked. The younger boy laughed softly, “No. Usually, he has his nose buried in a book.”

“Ah, those damned books. With as much as he reads, you’d think he’d have read something about tomatoes,” The man said, turning his chair slightly, his fingers gripped around the wheels as he glanced towards a small patch of dirt near the porch, a few sad-looking stalks growing from the dirt. Lance followed his gaze, laughing slightly.

“Dad,” Keith cleared his throat, throwing his apple core in the wheelbarrow, “I’m sure Lance doesn’t want to spend his time gardening. Maybe I can take him to-”

“I don’t mind,” The 18-year-old interjected. He ran his hand through his sweat soaked hair as he carefully made his way towards the spot where Keith was standing. The older boy froze slightly as Lance pulled his shirt from his torso slowly, sweat beginning to soak the black material. He watched as Lance struggled momentarily, the younger boy’s biceps flexing slightly as he pulled harder against the old material, and Keith swallowed, dropping the basket of apples he was holding as he jerked his head away, looking towards the trees, his face bright red. _Shit._

Lance pulled the shirt from his head, rubbing it over his hair briefly, trying to dry it the best he could before throwing it next to Keith’s gloves on the ground. He glanced down at Keith’s feet, taking his own shoes and socks off before bending down to pick up some of the apples lying on the ground next to him. Mr. Kogane smacked his hands together loudly, “You see, Keith, he doesn’t mind.”

…………………………………………………………………………………….

“Is this your mom?”

Keith glanced up from the book he’d been pretending to read, placing it on his chest as he looked over towards the closet. He swallowed softly before nodding, watching Lance’s fingers ghosting over the old photograph, his index gently tracing the young woman in the picture.

The younger boy turned back towards the closet, stepping closer to the door, rubbing his green towel over his wet hair as he continued to soak up the remaining water. He put a finger under the backside of the photo, feeling a rough thick edge and pulled it gently from the painted wood, wincing slightly as the old tape stuck against the door, refusing to come with the glossy paper. Lance peered towards the bunk beds, Keith’s eyes on him as the younger boy unfolded rough edge slowly. It was the other half of the photo. He waited for Keith to say something, for Keith to stop him… but he didn’t.

Instead, the 19-year-old laid there, motionless, his disregarded book abandoned against his chest, his eyes fixated on Lance. Keith closed his eyes slowly, letting his head rest against the plastered wall behind him as his fingernails dug into the soft skin on his forearm. Normally, he would have stopped anyone from seeing the rest of the picture… hell, he hadn’t let anyone ever see the rest of the picture, but for some reason, he felt like he could trust Lance. He felt safe around him. It felt okay. _I have a girlfriend…_

Lance bit his bottom lip as a smile formed on his face, his eyes taking in the rest of the photo. The other half was that of a baby… well, a toddler, facing the young woman, his back leaning against a man Lance recognized as Mr. Kogane… except, he wasn’t in a wheelchair in here. The toddler was smiling widely, holding out a red popsicle towards his mother, the sticky liquid coating his hand, dripping from his small wrist onto the floor below. Even though he couldn’t have been more than 3 or 4, Lance recognized the beginning of a small messy mullet- he recognized Keith.

Lance let out a slow breath, his mind trying to replay a memory that wasn’t his. They all looked so happy, so peaceful. _What happened?_ The 18-year-old wiped the bottom of his nose with his towel before letting it drop to the ground, falling against his toes softly. _Did she die? Was that when Keith’s dad had his accident?_

“Turn it over,” Keith whispered, his voice wavering slightly. He pressed his fingers harder against his skin before letting go, his hand smacking against the wooden rail on the side of the top bunk. He knew what was on the back- he’d spent many nights reading it, analyzing it… crying over it. He’d spent many nights trying to figure out why she left… how she could leave… leave him. He didn’t get his answer until his birthday last year, but it didn’t make things any better. Keith pressed his lips together tightly, his chest hitching slightly, his eyebrows scrunching together as his mind read the words from memory.

The 18-year-old’s fingers shook gently as he slowly turned the photo over, gripping the edges of the damaged picture in his hands. There was a message written on the back in messy cursive and Lance brought it closer, trying to make out the smeared words:

_Keith,_

_As I watch you grow, as I watch you learn, as I watch you become the great man I know you are destined to be, I realize just how precious you are to me… and that I cannot be there as much as I wish. My sweet boy, no matter what happens in this life or the next, I want you to know, you are loved. Forever and always, loved._

_Love eternally,_

_Mom_

Lance choked softly, clearing his throat as he folded the photo back slowly, pressing it gently against the closet, making sure the tape stuck to it before stepping back. He ran a hand through his hair as he glanced towards the glowing planets, trying his best to focus on the spinning Styrofoam versus the lump forming in his throat. Keith had let him read something personal… something for his eyes only. That was his way of opening up… That was his way of letting Lance in. _I thought we could be friends…_

Keith shifted, the mattress groaning softly as the older boy turned to his side, pulling the thin sheet over his tired body. They had spent most of the day in the garden, and despite taking a shower just half an hour ago, Keith could still smell sweat and dirt clinging to his skin. His shoulders ached from exertion, his back feeling hot and itchy from the sunburn he had received due to lack of sunscreen. The 19-year-old sighed, rubbing the back of his neck slowly, opening his eyes, noticing Lance standing a few feet from the closet, his head turned towards Keith’s stupid 10th grade Astrology project hanging in the corner.

“Lance? You okay?”

The younger boy flinched slightly, before clearing his throat, “Yeah, I, uh- yeah, Keith, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Keith shifted again, sitting up slightly, glancing under his bed at the bottom bunk, glancing at the stuffed Hippo he had placed there this morning when he left. He had hoped it would keep Lance from having that nightmare again… and even though it was childish as hell, Keith had hoped it would watch over Lance in his place. Last night had scared the hell out of him. Waking up to Lance crying in his sleep, freaking out, calling for Jamie- and after several failed attempts to wake the younger boy, Keith did the only other thing Shiro and his mom used to do to him when he had nightmares. He’d spent the rest of the night there too, letting Lance stop on his own, letting Lance lean against him, letting him fall asleep- too afraid to move, too afraid that if he did, if he went back to his bed, then the younger boy would have another nightmare… or memory. Keith wasn’t really sure which was worse, but he was familiar with both.

Lance cleared his throat again and the 19-year-old looked up slowly, drinking in Lance’s stiff stature. The younger boy still hadn’t moved. He just stood there, messing with the bands on his wrist, his eyes fixated on that stupid assignment. Keith shivered. It was wrong- it felt wrong, off. Something was wrong- Keith had made something wrong somehow and if he didn’t fix it- if he couldn’t fix it, then Lance was in for another rough night. And the thought of that… hurt.   

“Hey, McClain,” Keith said softly, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed before jumping down, stumbling slightly as he tried to keep his balance, “You wanna go somewhere?”

……………………………………………………………………………………….

Lance pulled his green jacket closer as the night air swept over his skin, sending chills through his lanky form. Despite it being hot as hell earlier, it was rather cold now… which was surprising. Keith and Shiro had grown up only a few hours from Voltron University, but despite being in the same state, the weather was drastically different. There, it was still cold, snow still struggling to melt as the sun barely showed it’s face on most days, but here… here, it was a dying heat during the day, freezing cold at night. Where Lance grew up, it was almost always sunny and hot, but not an uncomfortable hot. It was nice there, but here… and at Voltron… well, Lance still wasn’t used to the weather change.

Lance stumbled slightly, grasping at the half-fallen fence as his foot collided with some rocks he hadn’t known were there. He winced slightly, looking down, trying to peer through the darkness to see where else he shouldn’t step, but his eyes were having a hard time readjusting. Lance wasn’t really sure where they were going, Keith hadn’t said… and he wasn’t really sure why he agreed to come on what seemed like a 10-mile hike at 2 in the morning, but Lance needed to get out. He had to get out of there, out of that house, out of that room. The whole atmosphere was too different, too unfamiliar and it was stirring up things Lance was trying to keep buried beneath the surface, emotions he had tried to medicate, people he had tried to forget… he wanted to forget.

_…Lance grit his teeth as anger flowed through him, “I-I can’t do this! And you, you and Dad! You don’t see it! No one does! I’m drowning! I’m drowning, and you- you don’t care. You put so much pressure on me to be the perfect son. Especially since Jamie, and yet, you can’t even see what’s happening! You can’t see what’s happening to me, and I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live with this anymore- I can’t be your disappointment any longer. It’s not my fault the wrong son died…_

 He heard Keith make a small noise and looked back up, squinting slightly, straightening his posture. He stood there, forcing his hands against the edge of the fence as he realized Keith’s eyes were on him, as he realized he had probably been zoning out again… zoning out for a while. _Good going, McClain. You’re just in the way…_  

Keith cleared his throat, “Sorry, Lance. I forgot to mention to watch your step out here. There are rocks everywhere. Are you hurt?”

Lance swallowed, trying to figure out if he trusted his voice right now. He shivered again as wind blew past him, his hood smacking against the back of his neck softly as he gripped the splintered fence in his hands, pressing against the wooden fragments that were beginning to fray from the stupid posts. He felt the small splinters pierce his skin and he swallowed again, shoving his hands in his pockets, pulling his jacket closer as he stepped back, “No… But I have a question.”

The older boy hesitated, stepping forward a little as he tried to remember where the rocks were, so he could tell Lance, “Okay.”

The 18-year-old followed, stepping around the fence cautiously, smirking, “Are you planning on killing me, Mullet? Because you’re leading me into some Slenderman-looking woods.”

Keith snorted softly as he pushed his hood down, running a hand through his messy black hair. He let the cool breeze smack against his face, listening to the wildlife around them, grinning as he noticed some fireflies still looming above the grass ahead of them. It wasn’t like them to be out this late… then again, maybe they were about to call it a night. Keith paused briefly, closing his eyes as owls hooted in the distance, animals chattering a few feet behind them; people sleeping in their beds, ending their day as the animals that surround his house began theirs… God, he had missed this. There wasn’t much wildlife at Voltron… not that he would have time for a midnight stroll anyway, with his two jobs and six classes.

Lance stumbled again, his foot catching against something sticking out of the ground and he fell against Keith’s back, grasping at the older boy’s sweatshirt as the 19-year-old turned slightly. Keith grasped at his shoulders, pulling him up, letting the younger boy straighten himself on his own. Lance mumbled something under his breath as he reached down, brushing dirt from his pants. He didn’t mind nature, hell, he actually enjoyed it… and he didn’t mind the dirt or getting dirty, but he was wearing the same sweatpants from yesterday and he didn’t really want to get dirt on them because they weren’t his. _You’re a burden to the rest of us…_

He straightened his posture, running a dirty hand through his hair, his teeth chattering slightly as he looked around. He had no idea where they were… which, if he had, would have been surprising. He was walking in unfamiliar territory… he’d been doing that a lot lately.

He glanced towards Keith before looking past him, smiling slightly as his eyes met a small group of fireflies. He watched them for a few minutes; they looked so peaceful, so carefree, so pretty. Where Lance grew up, they didn’t really have them. Sometimes they would get lucky if his family ventured a little further South… but next to his house? They didn’t have fireflies at the beach. The 18-year-old sighed loudly, “Sorry I fell against you. It’s just so damn hard to see out here.”

“Here,” Keith whispered, turning slightly, extending his left hand towards Lance. The younger boy felt himself blush and glanced down before looking back up slowly, “I’m not taking your hand, man.”

Keith groaned, “Look, I know my way around here but it’s a little hard to see in the dark. I’ll give it back, I promise.”

Lance paused, crossing his arms, wiping his sweaty palms against his jacket as the trees rustled around them. He peered around, trying to find something familiar, something he had seen earlier… but Keith was right. It was hard to see in the dark…

“Do you trust me, McClain?”

Lance sucked in a shallow breath as he glanced back towards Keith, meeting his eyes. His chest tightened slightly, and a sick feeling swept through Lance’s stomach as he let his arms fall at his sides. Cold air swept over them, and Lance stopped himself from shivering, clenching his teeth together tightly as Keith’s question raced through his tired mind. _Do you trust me? Do I trust you? Yeah… yeah, probably more than you’ll ever know, Mullet… That’s what scares me…_

The 18-year-old nodded slowly before realizing the older boy probably couldn’t see him through the dark, and he extended his hand carefully, his fingers shaking as he found Keith’s sweaty ones. He heard the other boy exhale slowly, strong fingers clasped around his, squeezing them slightly, and Lance swallowed, trying to swallow down the feeling washing over him, trying to push itself to the surface. It was a feeling, an emotion he couldn’t place… the same one he’d felt earlier in the kitchen with Mrs. Kogane. But he wasn’t sure what it was, and that scared him.

Keith pressed forward, gripping Lance’s warm hand in his as he made his way around some more rocks, abandoned branches, past a few maple trees that were scattered in the back of the field. He felt his breathing hitch slightly as Lance’s fingers tightened gradually, the younger boy stumbling again, and Keith turned to make sure he didn’t fall. He really should have brought a flashlight with them, but he hadn’t planned on taking Lance here… Originally, he was going to take him to the gas station down the road that had been abandoned a few years ago, making it easy to climb on the roof without getting yelled at or caught, but something… something, anything, hell maybe everything, told Keith that Lance would like this better.  

The wind picked up around them, and Keith could feel Lance shiver. He bit his lip as they continued to walk, hoping the stupid walls were still holding up enough to keep the wind from seeping past the cracks. They walked in silence for a while and part of Keith wanted to continue, to keep walking, to circle back around a little later, to keep his fingers enclosed around Lance’s just a little bit longer. _I have a girlfriend…_

The 19-year-old stopped, looking up at the tree in front of him, feeling around the old bark as he tried his best to find the switch that his dad had somehow nailed to the giant tree a long time ago. He let go of Lance’s hand slowly, ghosting his fingers over the tree’s trunk, grimacing as his fingers collided with wet sticky sap. He wiped his hand over his sweatshirt before blindly feeling for the stupid switch once more. He bit his lip as he realized he hadn’t been out here for a while… that the lights might not work anymore, which would make this a whole hell of a lot more difficult.

“What are you looking for, Mullet?”

Keith cleared his throat, moving a little closer to the tree, letting his eyes adjust to the dark, “Hold on a second.”

His fingers fell against something sharp and he winced slightly as metal cut into the skin. There it was. He pressed his other hand against the switch, wiping his fingers against his hoodie as they started to throb, something wet running lazily down his hand. He really should have worn his gloves.

Every fiber in Keith’s body prayed to God that as his fingers flipped that stupid old switch that the lights would still work… that, even after all these years, they would somehow still come on. He turned to face Lance, momentarily letting his vision clear, “Welcome to the Castle, Lance McClain.”

There was a loud pop as some of the lights flickered, wavering slightly as they forced themselves on. Half the tree lit up as the other side sputtered, flicking on then off, struggling to stay on, and Lance sucked in a shallow breath as he glanced around them. White lights hung from the branches around them, hiding loosely between dark green leaves, hovering over them almost dangerously, woven in a random pattern that lit up the whole tree as colored lights circled up the tree’s trunk, twisting, turning up the full length. Every branch, hell every twig seemed to have a light attached to it, outlining the tree’s width; some branches almost brushing against the ground from previous damage, but despite this, they still clung to the lights, willing to stay together. It was… beautiful…   

He leaned against the bark as he looked up, his breathing catching in his throat as his mind tried to find words his mouth wouldn’t have been able to form; and it took Lance a few seconds to realize this was the same tree he had seen earlier, the one with the treehouse that looked to be on its last legs. He pushed away from the tree gently, stepping back as his eyes connected with the old treehouse, its wooden floorboard leaning dangerously downward, some of the planks on its sides were missing. He ran a hand through his hair slowly. There wasn’t a roof… but with the lights that were wrapped around the branches, Lance couldn’t understand why you’d want one in the first place. Painted boards were nailed to the side of the tree, each one in a different color, forming a makeshift ladder.  

The 18-year-old felt his knees shake slightly, but whether it was from the cold, exhaustion, or the fact that Lance was possibly looking at the most amazing thing he’d ever seen, he didn’t know. He swallowed, glancing around him again, noticing some of the branches were intertwined with other trees, and he followed the lighted path. He smiled, noticing the trees around them although lacking the bright colorful decorations, harbored apples that looked almost ripe. This was where Keith had gotten them earlier, then. He stumbled slightly and glanced down, looking at the rocks they had been avoiding, noticing some of them almost shined, painted with different colored paints, creating a path through the small clump of trees… leading back towards the giant tree with the crumpled old box.

Lance’s eyes followed the path slowly, looking at each rock, looking at the lights hanging above them, looking at the treehouse sitting dangerously in the middle of the tree. He laughed softly before looking back towards Keith, noticing the older boy was watching him intently, his fingers still pressed against the metal switch. Lance wondered just how long he had been standing here… just how long Keith had been watching him, and he ran a hand over his face, trying to mask the red creeping up his neck. _You don’t have to be an asshole all the time, Keith… it’s okay to open up and let people in sometimes- is this what you’re doing then, Kogane? You’re letting me in? Why? Why now? I thought we could be friends, but…_   

Keith pushed away from the trunk, “Come on.”

Lance watched as the older boy reached for one of the painted boards nailed against the tree, watching him climb it before disappearing inside the old house. Lance stood there for a few minutes, waiting for Keith to come crashing through the floorboards as the wooden box creaked loudly, groaning as the wind swept over it. The 18-year-old took a tentative step closer, pausing briefly as the older boy poked his head over the top part of the wall, “Are you coming, Sharpshooter?”

Lance swallowed, nodding quickly, “Y-yeah. Just this- this is pretty amazing, dude.”

Keith disappeared behind the wooden walls again as Lance reached for the ladder, pulling himself up on the old wood. He went slowly. The treehouse wasn’t too high up, but if one of the boards snapped, it would still be a nasty fall and probably result in a broken bone.

Lance pulled himself through the hole, sitting on the lopsided ground, letting his legs dangle out of the small entrance as he glanced around. The inside wasn’t as extravagant as he expected… each wall was painted a different color with paint that was, at one point probably bright and vibrant, but now sat dull and washed-out. If it hadn’t been for the lights hanging above them, Lance would have never noticed the colors. Some lights from the branches dipped down, hanging above the open roof, banging against the posts as the wind brushed past.

He shivered slightly as his eyes met Keith, sitting on the other side of the treehouse, leaning against a plank that protested his every movement, his eyes still watching him. Lance looked behind him, smirking at the faded, rain-washed single Star Wars poster nailed to the wall, torn in so many places that if a strong wind blew through, it probably wouldn’t survive. He noticed a few ancient-looking blankets and pillows littering the floor, dipping towards the slanted side, a few sticks and leaves laying on top… but other than that, the inside was a lot barer than he had expected… not like the outside.  

Lance glanced back towards Keith, smirking, “So… the Castle?”

Keith laughed softly, breaking eye contact as he glanced up, “Yeah… we actually didn’t name it that- Allura did a few years ago, but the name kind of stuck.”

Lance ran a hand through his hair slowly, pulling his legs the rest of the way through the hole, “What was it called before?”

“Promise not to laugh?” Keith asked, pushing away from the wall. He laid against one of the pillows, pressing his back to the floor, pausing briefly as it groaned before looking back towards Lance. The 18-year-old nodded slightly, leaning his back against the post, pushing his hands in his pockets, pulling the old material closer.   

The older boy snorted, a bemused expression painted across his face, “Treehouse.”

Lance laughed loudly, “Yeah, that’s creative, Mullethead. I can see why Allura would change it.”

Keith shrugged before laying down on the floor, placing his hands behind his head, staring up at the night sky above him, “Shut up. I was 12. Ironically, the only reason this place was built was because I was messing around with Shiro. Our mom told us not to climb any of the trees because she was worried we’d get hurt, but I was a stubborn kid who had a problem with rules. So, I started climbing this one,” Keith pounded his fist against the floor gently, “and I ended up falling. Broke my left arm. A few days later, Dad and Shiro built this monstrosity. The damn thing’s been here ever since.”

Lance chuckled softly, pulling his legs closer to his chest. Him and Jamie never had a treehouse, but they had a secret spot… well, maybe not that secret. There used to be this old lifeguard station from the early 50’s that was somehow still standing, and they used to go there as kids, camp there for the night after surfing, pretend they were lost on a deserted island and that stupid wooden hut was their base. It had been a good way to spend an afternoon, or a summer. Lance had gone back there… about a year ago, but their hideout was gone… he was gone.

“Lance?”

The 18-year-old looked up slowly, noticing Keith was propped up slightly, watching him again. Lance bit his bottom lip, his fingers ghosting over his wrist absentmindedly. He needed to stop zoning out, he needed to stop thinking about everything… otherwise. Keith glanced back up at the sky quickly before meeting Lance’s eyes again. He smiled softly, “Come here. I wanna show you something.”

Lance hesitated. The same feeling from earlier returned as he watched Keith’s eyes light up as he slowly made his way towards the older boy. He swallowed thickly, noticing the older boy’s eyes were bigger, darker than he thought, more vibrant- standing out against his pale face, making it the first thing you noticed about him. Making it the first thing Lance noticed about him…

Keith was different here, in his element. Softer. Gentler… more open. It was strange and confusing and… and? And what? Nice, maybe? Yeah… Lance thought it was nice. Keith was a different person almost, sweet. He wasn’t as closed-off here, or maybe he was just more comfortable around Lance… or, maybe Lance was the one that was different. Maybe Lance was the problem here…

_…Lance pressed his mouth against Keith’s as the older boy struggled to breathe. Rain washed around them, dripping down Lance’s face, soaking into his pants as he pressed his knees harder against the muddy ground, pulling the older boy closer towards him as he sucked in a ragged breath. Keith shivered, his hand pressing against Lance’s wet shirt, clenching the material tightly between his fingers and Lance stopped himself from flinching. He ran a hand up Keith’s arm, pressing against his neck, pulling his down slightly as he pressed his mouth against the 19-year-old’s again._

_He sighed softly, feeling Keith’s fingers loosen against his shirt, his body beginning to relax as the panic attack that had consumed him moments ago slowly began to dissipate. Lance smiled, running his thumb across Keith’s tense jaw, making his way towards the older boy’s soaking hair as shaking fingers slid down his shirt…_

Lance stilled slightly as he laid down next to Keith, awkwardly. This was awkward, weird, confusing… but somehow, it felt nice. Right. Safe. Lance pushed this thought aside, his mind still trying to place the sick feeling in his stomach, trying to find the right words to describe it, to describe the emotion. Keith cleared his throat, “Close your eyes, Lance.”

The 18-year-old glanced over at Keith before closing them slowly. There was a soft groan from the wood under them and Lance bit his lip, wondering for the millionth time tonight, if the old treehouse could support their weight. He shivered slightly, pulling his jacket closer towards his chest as the wind howled past the wooden box, squeezing through the holes and missing planks. He felt Keith move next to him, cursing softly as something smacked against the ground followed by a click. Lance kept his eyes closed, waiting for Keith to tell him he could open them as the older boy shifted beside him again. _Do you trust me, McClain? Do you trust me, Keith? After everything I’ve put you through… After everything I’m doing to you… After-_

“Okay, you can open them.”

Lance opened his eyes slowly, his lips parting slightly as he stared up at the night sky around them. He blinked a few times, his mind trying to figure out how he had missed the lights hanging above him… how big this tree was to have such bright lights that seemed further away… Wait. Lance exhaled as it suddenly hit him. Keith had turned the lights off, so what Lance was seeing, what Lance had mistake for smaller lights… were actually stars.

The younger boy’s body stopped; thinking, moving, breathing all stopped as he continued to stare up at the sky hanging above them. It looked so big, so vast… so scary and dark, but yet... He’d never seen so many stars in one place, so many shining in one spot- this wasn’t like the playhouse from a few weeks ago, this was different, somehow. From where they were laying, the sky looked like black velvet littered with hundreds, thousands, millions of sequins, or jewels, or maybe… just lights. Millions and millions of lights, strewn up in the night sky, vibrant and bright, refusing to drown in the black abyss, shining against the darkness surrounding them... no matter what. Lance felt tears prick his eyes.

Keith glanced towards the younger boy, watching his expression shift as he continued to stare above them. He placed a hand behind his head as he scooted closer towards Lance, feeling the younger boy shivering, hoping his body heat would be enough to keep him from getting cold. Keith swallowed, glancing back up towards the sky, “I used to come here a lot as a kid, especially when things got bad. When it was all too much. When we first moved here. Best view in town…”

Keith trailed off, feeling Lance flinch slightly. He paused for a while, letting silence hang above them in a heavy fashion, broken only by the wind threatening to tear the stupid shack apart. He listened to Lance choke before taking a deep breath, and Keith inhaled softly, shifting again, letting his hand fall gently between them, trying to stretch his cramping fingers. He peered to his right, swallowing against the worry in his chest as he noticed the silent tears glistening against the younger boy’s cheeks. Keith bit his bottom lip, turning back towards the sky, freezing slightly as he felt warm shaky fingers snake their way down his arm and, he shivered. He smiled softly as Lance’s fingers grasped his before clearing his throat, “Shiro used to get sick all the time. Well, me and him both. After the accident. My body would hurt, randomly… for days. The slightest touch felt like sandpaper against every burn, every cut, every bruise, and water flowing over my back, down my arms was excruciating. Sometimes it was so bad- I remember my mom would sit with me every time, running water, pressing against each burn, each cut, trying to be as gentle as she could while I sat there, crying like an idiot. I remember thinking at the time that it was stupid that she even cared enough to sit there, giving her adopted son a bath when the pain got too bad… when the meds wore off. But she’s always been that way. It didn’t matter if I was 11 or 16- she still did it.”

Keith paused for a moment, stretching one of his legs before continuing, “And Shiro… he was really weak most days. His body had a hard time with all the medications and it kept rejecting his prosthetic. He used to get these headaches too- sometimes he still does, and it would put him out for a few days. His body wasn’t healing like it was supposed to… or maybe he was just taking a long time to heal. But he would get really high fevers, randomly- and he’d be stuck in bed for days, but my mom- she would stay with him. Every time… Then my dad had his accident. He used to be a photo journalist but after, he couldn’t travel everywhere like he used to… but, no matter what, no matter how hard it got for him, no matter how bad his mood was, she was always there. Someone always needed her. I kept to myself a lot, trying to stay out of the way in case someone needed her more than me.”

Lance swallowed, the tight feeling in his chest returning and he sucked in a sharp breath, closing his eyes against the stars hanging above him. Keith shifted slightly as Lance’s fingers tightened around his, “So, when things got bad. When Shiro was down, or my dad was having an episode, or I was trying to deal with the pain. When I felt like I had no one, or when things became too much to handle, I would come here… and stare up at the stars. It didn’t matter how bad the weather got, or how dark it got because I knew they were always up there. Burning bright against all of the blackness surrounding it. Every time,” Keith sighed softly, “I always found it funny that all those stars were just stupid balls of glowing plasma, of gas and matter, but despite that, most people find them amazing, memorizing… beautiful- I think they’re beautiful, because even in the darkest night, even in the shittiest weather, they still shine for the whole world to see. No matter what.”

Lance sucked in another breath through his nose, letting his chest heave against the delayed response, and opened his eyes slowly. He cleared his throat softly as his eyes met the same stupid stars, burning just as bright as they had been earlier, and he glanced to the left to see Keith’s eyes on him. Lance swallowed, rubbing harshly at the tears still dripping down his face as he peered back at the sky. _The closest star to Earth is the Sun, Mullet… and it has enough power to scorch the whole damn planet._

 Keith turned back towards the stars, coughing slightly, covering his mouth with his other hand as memories hit him, and he felt saddened anger wash over him as he took a deep breath. He let silence weigh on them a little longer, listening to Lance’s breathing as the younger boy wiped at the tears forming in his eyes, smacking his hand back against the wooded floor several times, trying to calm down.

Keith wanted this to be okay… he needed it to be okay. He needed Lance to be okay, he wanted Lance to be okay. Keith knew what it was like, what it was like to swim in stupid dark water with tired arms and a messed-up mind until you found yourself unable to make it any further, until you found yourself drowning from pain. Keith knew what it felt like to drown. He had been there many times; the only difference was he could normally pull himself out… normally. But if he couldn’t save Lance from drowning, couldn’t save him from his own pain, then Keith was at least going to make sure the younger boy wouldn’t have to swim alone.

“The last time I came here,” Keith whispered, “Was the night my mom came to visit… on my 18th…”

 ……………………………………………………………………………………

_“I’m just trying to be normal again!” Lance yelled as his brother pushed against his shoulders, keeping him grounded, shoving him against the wall behind him harshly. Alexander snorted, peering down as Lance pushed him away, “You think this is normal? You think our family is normal? You think kissing boys is normal? Seriously, Lance. Take a fucking look around, we haven’t been a normal family in a long time, and honestly little brother, you’re to blame.”_

_The 16-year-old stilled, his arms falling at his sides as he looked up, his eyes meeting his brother’s green ones, his breathing hitching slightly as memories washed back to him, as the numbness returned. He tried. He really tried to hide it, to bury it, to burn it… but that feeling, that stupid feeling, the hurt- it fucking returned. Every time._

_“It’s not my fault…” he whispered, folding his arms across his chest as a sick feeling bubbled in his stomach and Lance stopped himself from doubling over. Alex laughed harshly, stepping closer, and Lance swallowed, the smell of alcohol flowing off his older brother in sickening waves. The older boy placed his hand on the wall behind Lance, closing the distance between them causing the teenager to flinch slightly._

_“But it is. You’ve fucked up this family so much, and now, now this! You’re pathetic… They might be able to forgive you Lance, for Jamie, for everything… but I won’t, I can’t. Lexi can’t look at you, Sebastian can’t talk to you. You honestly think someone on this planet would love you after what you did? After what you’re doing now? Honestly Lance, the wrong brother died,” Alex said, swaying slightly as he pushed away from the wall, and Lance felt his knees buckle as he forced his back against the white wall, hoping, praying that the old plaster would keep him upright for at least a little bit longer._

_Tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill as he watched his brother yank the bedroom door open, letting it bang against the wall with a loud thawk. Lance tightened his grip around his chest, his heart pounding against his ribs as he tried to keep the panic attack at bay, as he tried to swallow down the bile rising in his throat. He coughed softly, “Alexander?”_

_His brother paused, flinching slightly, the muscles in his back tensing as he turned halfway, and for a moment, just a moment, Lance got a glimpse of him- of the older brother he used to be. Of the man he used to be… of the family he used to have. The younger boy tried pushing away, tried to look stronger than he felt, but his body betrayed him, and his knees gave out. He slid against the wall roughly, his back scrapping against the stupid white plaster and he winced as he smacked against the ground. He couldn’t do this. Not today. Not anymore. It wasn’t his fault he looked like Jamie. It wasn’t his fault that his family was falling apart… at least that’s what he tried telling himself. But he knew. He knew the truth. And the truth was, it was all his fault._

_“Alexander,” Lance whispered, swallowing softly as tears left his eyes, looking towards his older brother once more, “I’m drowning… and I don’t think I can swim anymore… I don’t think I know how to anymore.”_

_“Then maybe you should stop trying to. Just like the rest of us…”_

Lance jerked, opening his eyes slowly, blinking against the bright sunlight that stung his face _._ He took a deep breath as the memory faded slowly, melting into the back of his mind, hidden behind things he had locked away a long time ago, and the younger boy shifted, pulling the cheap, stiff yellow blanket draped around his shoulders, closer to his chest. He swallowed as he glanced towards the sky, noticing for the first time today that leaves hung above him, swaying slightly in a greenish blur, bright blue filling the background as bright yellow light filtered past branches, gleaming off the decorations hanging over the open treehouse.

Lance groaned, shifting slowly as he pressed his aching hand against the old floorboards, pushing himself up slightly until his eyes met a small dark wet spot from where his head had been laying, on gray material that wasn’t his, and the teenager’s face flushed red. Sweat began to dot his hairline as his eyes slowly trailed upward, following the material, his breathing hitching as his eyes landed on messy black hair and Keith’s closed eyes. _Shit. I thought we could be friends, but…_

The 18-year-old let out a steady breath, running a hand through his hair as the events from last night replayed in his head. He had fallen asleep… he had fallen asleep on top of Keith. _Shit!_ Lance sat up quickly, pressing a hand against his stomach as the sick feeling from last night hit him full force and he glanced down to see he was wearing Keith’s red hoodie…  

_“The last time I came here,” Keith whispered, “Was the night my mom came to visit… on my 18 th…” _

_Keith’s hand tightened around Lance’s, his fingers digging into the younger boy’s hand and Lance bit his bottom lip before turning back towards the sky, trying to keep his hand still. Wind swept of the treehouse and the floorboards shifted loudly, groaning against the straining weight, the branches smacking against the wooden planks. Lance shivered harshly as the older boy let go of his hand before sitting up slightly. Lance turned, watching as pale moonlight danced off the 19-year-old’s features as the older boy struggled to pull his sweatshirt from his body._

_“Here,” Keith said gently, pulling his red hoodie past his hair, shaking it out slightly before handing it towards Lance as the younger boy shook his head, “No. I can’t take your jacket, dude. It’s cold out here.”_

_Keith laughed softly, “Lance, take it. I get hot easily and besides, I’m used to the weather here. Take it. Please.”_

Shaky fingers ghosting over the worn fabric, a soft smile plastered against Lance’s face as he pulled his legs to his chest, his breathing still coming out in uneven waves, his heart still racing. He closed his eyes briefly, burying his face against his arms, letting the warm scent of grass and dirt fill his nostrils as he pressed his chin harder against his knees. The scent, Keith’s scent, was warm… familiar, nice… it was nice.

Something moved above him, and Lance glanced up, smirking as a bird flew past, diving between the branches and lights as it landed on the wall, chirping loudly. It was nice here… peaceful. The younger boy sighed, his nose twitching slightly as something ran across his face, and the 18-year-old ran a hand across his temple lazily, a tiny black spider running along his fingertips. He watched it momentarily before letting it crawl across the blanket, looking back towards Keith’s unconscious form.

The older boy was laying on his back, his black hair covering most of his face, small twigs and leaves littering his shirt, sticking in his hair randomly. Lance snorted, looking back down at the dark spot on Keith’s chest, hoping it would dry quickly before the older boy realized the 18-year-old had been drooling. He ran a hand across the spot gently, letting his hand hover as Keith’s strong heartbeat pounded against his palm, his chest rising and falling gracefully, his body unaware of the morning heat burning against him.

Lance leaned back against the wall behind him, looking up momentarily, noticing the dull purple planks were slightly wet from morning dew. Keith coughed softly, shifting to his side, pulling his body closer to him, his right pant leg riding up past his ankle, and Lance smiled widely, raising his eyebrows slowly as he pushed forward.

There, on Keith’s ankle, standing out against pale flesh in black ink, was the outline of a lion… but it wasn’t a real lion. No, this one was all lines and sharp angles, making it look more robotic than real. Red coated its head, chest, back, covering part of its feet, while blue lines filled its cheeks, forehead and end of its tail. Black lines traced its body, covering a huge spot on its neck and shoulders. It looked like something from some cartoon. It looked nerdy as hell… but kind of cool. _I have four tattoos, Lance… So, Mullet, that’s two. Where are the others?_

“Stop staring…”

Lance flinched slightly, jerking his attention from Keith’s ankle to the older boy’s face to see his eyes fixed on him. Lance smirked, running a hand through his hair nervously as he pressed his back against the old wall once more, “I was just trying to figure out what kind of idiot gets a lion and sword tattooed on their body. Were you part of a gang that I should know about?”

Keith snorted before groaning loudly as he scrapped his hand against the floor, pushing himself up on tired limbs and sunlight pierced his eyes. He sat up slowly, blinking several times as he stared down at the leaves and twigs falling from his shirt, before leaning against the Star Wars poster behind him. He closed his eyes briefly, running a hand through his long hair, pulling a few more twigs from the strands, and he swallowed, opening his eyes. He looked over, smiling slightly as Lance’s eyes met his and he let out a soft cough before clearing his throat, “I was eighteen, Lance. It seemed cool at the time…”

Lance nodded, messing with a loose thread on the bottom of Keith’s red sweatshirt, “And the sword?”

The 19-year-old was quiet for a while, and Lance bit his bottom lip, wondering if the older boy would answer. Keith leaned his head back again, closing his eyes slowly as exhaustion washed over him. Last night had been… well, long… and Keith had barely slept. He swallowed, running a hand over his left arm as something crawled up it, “Sixteen.”

He heard Lance exhale loudly, and he coughed again, opening his eyes slightly to find the younger boy had scooted closer, his eyes looking towards Keith’s chest, towards the area where the tattoo was. Keith rolled his eyes, running a hand over his face before stretching loudly, touching the top edge on the wall behind him. Sweat was beginning to form across his shoulders, down his back and the 19-year-old grimaced as the smell of stale body odor filled his nostrils. _Fuck, he really needed a shower… and a haircut._

Keith glanced back towards the younger boy and groaned softly, “Go ahead, Lance. Just ask.”

Lance’s face lit up slightly as he came closer, peering back up at Keith, “What does it mean? Did your parents know?”

The older boy sighed, pushing his legs out in front of him, his feet dangling from the hole, and he briefly wondered if that’s how he’d lost his shoes. He looked around slowly, scanning the old musty blankets and tattered pillows, searching for his stupid black converse.

“My parents didn’t know, only Shiro because he got one too. My dad found out a few days later, my mom a few weeks after that… both were mad at first, but they got over it pretty quickly. And for its meaning, it’s the Blade of Mamora. Basically, it symbolizes knowledge or death,” Keith said, moving the yellow blanket, throwing it across the tiny box before giving up on his shoes. He turned back towards Lance, swallowing thickly, noticing the soft smile painted across his tan face, a green leaf sticking out of his brown hair, and those stupid stupid freckles. _I thought we could be friends…_

 Lance nodded, moving closer, and the older boy blushed slightly as Lance’s knees brushed against his thigh. Keith pressed his head harder against the wall behind him, coughing softly as his eyes darted to Lance’s lips briefly. _Peppermints… You’re in too deep, Kogane. He’s going to hurt you and you’re going to let him… I have a girlfriend…_

“Lance,” Keith whispered, moving closer, his left hand pressed against his thigh as his right reached up slowly, trembling fingers reaching for the leaf hanging in the younger boy’s hair, “I don’t think I…”

Lance met his eyes, holding his breath as Keith’s fingers pulled at something in his hair, his fingers trailing down slowly, ghosting past his ear, tracing his jaw line, and Lance tensed slightly. He swallowed quickly, biting back the feeling from earlier as it threatened to overwhelm him, his stomach knotting, twisting, turning, as his heart froze in his chest. _I thought we could be friends, but maybe…_

Keith’s fingers stopped at the bottom of Lance’s neck, his thumb pressed against the younger boy’s collar bone, his index finger pressed against his pulse, feeling his heart racing, and Keith inhaled slowly. He bit his bottom lip, leaning forward slightly as the younger boy’s hand grasped lightly at the bottom of Keith’s shirt, pulling the old fabric down gently. The floorboards groaned loudly, protesting the action as Keith pushed himself forward, his hand grasping the back of Lance’s neck as the 18-year-old inched closer, the scent of dirt and saltwater filling the gaps between them and Keith shivered.

“Paladins! Time to go!”

Keith flinched, wincing slightly as Shiro’s voice met his ears and Lance glanced down, pulling away, his hands finding their way back his pockets. Keith dropped his hand, swallowing loudly as he leaned against the boards, looking towards the yellow blanket again, his mind reeling. Silence hung over them in heavy awkward waves as Keith slammed is head against the wood behind him, cursing Shiro as his brother yelled again.

“Hey, Keith,” Lance cleared his throat, “I-I have a girlfriend anyway, man.”  

Keith swallowed thickly, closing his eyes as he heard Lance shift, the rotting wood moving under him as the younger boy made his way towards the ladder. He pressed his head harder against the wall, digging his nails into his palm again. His chest hurt, his stomach felt sick, and Keith swallowed again, trying his best to focus on the sound of birds chirping, or the trees rustling, or Shiro’s yelling- to focus on anything, anything besides the angered frustration threatening to swallow him. _I have a girlfriend… you always have a girlfriend, Lance. And yet, it still doesn’t change my feelings for you… it doesn’t change how I feel. I don’t know how to change it… to stop it… I don’t think I can be friends._

Lance sighed as Keith opened his eyes slowly. The younger boy pushed his legs through the small hole, pausing momentarily as the whole treehouse shifted before continuing down the makeshift ladder. He looked back towards Keith, frowning slightly as he noticed the stupid drool spot still hadn’t dried all the way and instead pooled in a small off-gray circle on Keith’s chest. He followed the gray material again, his eyes connecting with Keith’s dull ones, before swallowing as Shiro called again, “Hey, Mullet. Which would you choose?”

Keith flinched, looking up slightly, running a hand through his hair, “What?”

“Which would you choose? Knowledge… or death?” Lance asked softly. Keith sat there, leaning against the wall, watching as the younger boy climbed through the rest of the hole, and the 19-year-old swallowed, pulling his knees to his chest as tears threatened to fill his eyes. His face felt hot, and he coughed softly, wiping his nose on knees as he continued to stare at that stupid hole, hoping, wishing, that Lance would come back… that he would stay… just once. But he had a girlfriend… and Keith? Keith just had stupid feelings that he couldn’t control.

Keith pressed his forehead against his arms as sweat continued to trickle down the back of his neck, and tears filled his eyes, clouding his vision. He took a shallow breath as he heard Shiro call his name, and the teenager looked up, wiping roughly at his eyes as he forced his body to move, Lance’s question echoing in his head. _So, which would you choose? Knowledge… or death?_


	9. Matching the Thunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a storm coming,  
> It hides inside us.  
> But as the sky darkened  
> And the first rain fell;  
> I breathed you deeply in,  
> Drowning silently,  
> In your beautiful pain.  
> My love echoing around you,  
> Matching the thunder

_The fight had been a mistake, a big fucking mistake; Keith knew this, but the pictures… honestly, he didn’t care about the pictures. Brad deserved it. He deserved everything that had happened to him, everything that was going to happen to him, for everything he did… everything he’d done._

_Pain greeted the 17-year-old as he bit back a wince, pressing the once frozen bag of peas against his cheek as he fiddled with the blood caked under his nails. Despite the fight breaking out a few hours ago, he still had dirt and blood littering his clothes, covering his face, embedded under his nails, reminding him that he had fucked up. Reminding him that this was his fault… that he had done something stupid._

_His mother had been less than pleased to pick him up from Iverson’s office; leaving work early to pick up a son who, up until this point, hadn’t been the one that caused trouble. He wasn’t Shiro, and for that, his mother was always grateful because her older son had always been a handful… especially in high school._

_But now… now, Keith was sitting in one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs at the kitchen table, trying his best to melt into the background as he willed the warm bag of vegetables to soothe the bruise on his face that burned every time he breathed. He winced slightly as his mother continued to pace, hands on her hips as she lectured about how violence wasn’t the answer and all that bullshit. She wasn’t yelling… Keith had only seen her yell twice in his life, and both those times had been at Shiro because of his older brother’s ability to seek out trouble; but for some reason, right now, the fact that she wasn’t yelling, only made things worse._

_His father sighed loudly, and Keith glanced briefly towards the older man who sat across from him, his eyes fixed on Keith, his arms crossed. Keith swallowed loudly, glancing down at his shirt once more as his mother continued, as tears threatened to well in his eyes. Keith wasn’t a bad kid; I mean, yeah, he had a tendency to overreact and he had anger issues, but he wasn’t a bad kid. He just… he just felt so fucking miserable. He felt betrayed, broken, wrong, and Shiro seeing him like this a few days ago, hadn’t helped his situation. Keith was drowning, swimming in pain and heartbreak as his world that he had tried so damn hard to keep to himself, suddenly became the talk of that fucking high school. The looks in the hallway, the alienation of the people he used to hang out with, the “it’ll get better” talks from his teachers- all of it was too much, and yet, he was the bad guy in this situation._

_Anger coursed through his body as he realized he was clutching the bag of peas in his hand tightly, feeling the once round shape of the squishable vegetable smash under his hand, and he flung the bag on the table harshly as his mother came to a slow stop in front of him. He pressed his hands against his thighs, swallowing thickly as tears filled his vision and his fingers curled around his bruised knees, his fingernails digging through the rough fabric on his jeans forcing the scabbed flesh to reopen._

_His mother sighed loudly, “Keith, honey, I mean… what are we expected to do with you now? We can’t afford private school, and you only had two months left before graduation. I just, I just don’t understand how a straight-A kid goes from being the class president to getting kicked out of school! How does that even happen? I just don’t understand! Help me understand, Keith!”_

_Keith choked slightly, pressing a hand against his eyes, stopping any tears from falling as he cleared his throat softly, pressing his hand back against his knee as he glanced up slowly. He coughed several times, trying his best to choke down the lump trying to form in his throat, trying his best to pretend that everything was okay, that he was okay, and that everything was going to be alright… it had to be alright…._

           The music was too loud. Echoing off the walls around him, banging against the doorframes and making the stupid green liquid in his red solo cup ripple slightly, splashing against the rimmed edge. Keith frowned, leaning back against the stale wallpaper, closing his eyes briefly as people pushed past him, making their way to the middle of the living room where some guy was attempting to fulfill his dreams of becoming the next Eminem.

            The 19-year-old sighed, shoving a hand in his pocket as he continued to clutch the plastic cup. He wasn’t really sure why he came… hell, he wasn’t ever sure why he came to parties considering he hated crowds. He couldn’t even blame Shiro this time considering his brother was still working and would be for at least a few more hours. But with the stress of midterms starting tomorrow and everything that happened at the Castle a few days ago… Keith really needed something to take his mind off things. 

            Lance had been more finicky than normal; dodging plans and study meet-ups, avoiding Keith at almost all costs, and even though it shouldn’t, it was really starting to piss the 19-year-old off. He knew he had crossed a line when he had tried to kiss the younger boy back at the treehouse, but Lance hadn’t tried to pull away, he hadn’t tried to stop him… and he hadn’t brought it up. It wasn’t surprising considering he had a girlfriend but still, the older boy was hopeful. It was stupid beyond belief. _I thought we could be friends… I have a girlfriend._

              _…The 19-year-old pressed his chin against Lance’s shoulder as the younger boy continued to cry, wrapping his arms around his midsection, pulling him as close to him as he possibly could. He gulped loudly, swallowing back the panicked tears that threatened to swell in his eyes as he tried to keep calm, because crying wouldn’t help the situation, it wouldn’t help Lance right now… no matter how much this freaked him out._

_He took a slow breath as he tried to remember what his mother or Shiro used to do whenever he had nightmares, tried to remember what had helped him through the nights where memories were the only thing he had, and when sleep was the only thing that seemed impossible. He closed his eyes, part of him wishing Lance would calm down on his own, the other part wishing, hoping that his parents or Shiro would wake up… fuck, he’d even take Allura right now._

_“I like that you’re broken, broken like me,” He whispered softly, sniffing slightly as he felt Lance relax a little, his legs falling against Keith’s sweaty knees. Keith swallowed, “I like that you’re lonely, lonely like me…”_

_He pressed Lance against him as the younger boy grasped at his hands, pulling his fingers tightly against his, and the 19-year-old resisted the urge to wince as he continued…_

Something nudged at his ribs harshly and Keith jumped, directing his attention towards Hunk and Pidge. Considering he had been occupying this wall since he arrived, the older boy had nearly forgotten he had come with someone. He raised an eyebrow slowly, “What?”

            Pidge snorted, shaking her head slowly as she took a long sip from her cup, leaning back against the wall as Hunk ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. Hunk sighed, “I was asking you if you saw the new Power Rangers film… and then I was asking if anything weird went down when you were at your parents.”

            Keith pushed himself away from the wall as he felt his face heat up. He swallowed nervously, clutching the cheap cup, “Why!”

            Hunk gave him a weird look, “Wow, dude. I was just asking because Shay has been saying that Allura and Shiro are getting married… and like, I didn’t know if something happened…”

            Hunk trailed off, his eyes tracing over Keith’s features as the older boy leaned against the wall once more, pressing his spine against the stupid pink wallpaper, harshly. He ran a hand through his hair gradually, taking in a slow breath as his mind flashed to his brother, his eyes spotting Allura across the room talking to Shay and another girl he didn’t recognize. Were they getting married? Honestly, the thought hadn’t really ever crossed his mind, but it made sense. Those two had been dating for almost three years, and after a small rough patch, they were completely devoted to each other. It was kind of disgusting… in a romantic type of way. But married? Was his delinquent, spent the night in jail twice as a teenager, come home drunk a few times, and never serious older brother actually getting married?

            “… I mean, Lance has been completely out of it lately, and dude, I’m telling you, he’s off his meds or something. He won’t talk to me about it. He never does; I’m just the guy who has to pick up the pieces, and-”

            Keith turned his attention back towards Hunk at the mention of Lance’s name. He wasn’t really sure what they were talking about or what the question was, but the way Hunk was talking, made the situation seem important. Pidge nodded slowly before slapping Hunk on the arm and nodding towards the door, “Speak of the devil.”

            The 19-year-old followed her gaze and sucked in a short breath as his eyes connected with Lance. A small smirk crossed his face as he tuned out the rest of Pidge and Hunk’s conversation, watching the younger boy stop briefly and talk to someone at the door. The 18-year-old glanced towards Keith’s direction and smiled widely, the goofy expression lighting up his whole face as he waved slightly. Keith nodded, crossing his arms over his chest, forgetting about the cup of liquid crushed in his right hand that was dripping from the misshaped rim. The music changed rapidly, fading from an amateur rendition of some rap to another immature and badly collaborated rave song, and Keith swallowed.

             The teenager bit his lip as Lance made his way towards them, his hand grasped around someone else’s and Keith held his breath as his eyes connected with a small blonde girl with green eyes… Lacey. Beside him, Hunk and Pidge groaned, and he turned to see Pidge shuffling with her bookbag, placing her empty cup on the table next to her before slinging the bag over her shoulder. Confusion crossed his face as she turned, giving them a half-smile before saying, “Well, that’s my que. I’ll catch you guys later; going to go kick my brother’s ass on Call of Duty.”

            Hunk sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Yeah, man. I should probably go to. A lot of essays due Friday, and besides, I’m pretty sure Shay has work tomorrow.”

            “Wait. What?” Keith questioned nervously, running a hand through his hair as he realized he was about to be left alone with the one person who seemed to currently be avoiding him. He reached towards Hunk, putting his hand on his shoulder, hoping, praying that the other boy would stay, not for Lance’s sake, but for his own. Hunk cleared his throat, “Look, dude. Lance is great and everything, but Lacey… she’s, well honestly, she’s-”

            “A bitch,” Pidge cut him off, reaching beside her for a handful of cookies. Hunk laughed nervously, “She’s not that bad. I mean, she’s-”

            Pidge shook her head, “No, dude. She’s a bitch. And a possessive one at that. She once told me that I should back off of Lance and focus more on what I look like versus trying to get with someone already taken… and this was after me telling her, I was asexual.”

            Hunk pushed the shorter girl away gently, “Don’t listen to her, Keith. Look, Lacey’s just… yeah, no, she’s a bitch. But Lance has been with her since high school and I don’t really see that changing anytime soon, so, like, either play by her rules or leave, man. For him.”

            Keith bit his bottom lip as he pushed his hands in his pockets, trying to decide whether or not he should leave as Lance made his way over, shoving the older boy’s shoulder gently, “Hey, man. Where’s everyone going?”

            The 19-year-old shrugged, glancing at Lance briefly before looking towards Lacey, smiling slightly as he extended an awkward hand. The girl took his hand slowly, before curling her arm back around Lance’s bicep, her fingers sliding down gracefully until they clasped around Lance’s slender ones… _soft wet fingers brushed against his cheeks and jaw, and he felt his body relaxing slowly. He felt fingers pushing his wet hair away from his face as he took a breath, as he was pulled closer..._

            “So, Keith, this is Lacey. Lacey, Keith,” Lance said, glancing down at his girlfriend, smiling widely as he gestured towards Keith. The 19-year-old ran a hand over the back of his neck, letting his nails scrape against his skin as his eyes met Lacey’s, and a shiver ran down his spine. She was pretty… well, she was wearing a ton of makeup, but she was pretty. She had very feminine features and the thick mascara and bright red lipstick defined every bit of that… She was probably the type of girl guys constantly commented on, the type of girl who thrived on the attention and was consistently told how beautiful she was growing up. Keith couldn’t compete with that. Fuck, if Lance had been with her since high school, then Keith didn’t even stand a chance.

            Lance wiggled his way out of Lacey’s grasp, causing her to whine slightly. He turned, giving her a soft smile, “I’m gunna get us some drinks. Keith, refill?”

            The older boy glanced down at his cup, realizing that most of it had spilt on the floor below him soaking into his red converse, and he blushed slightly, before nodding, handing his cup to Lance. He watched as the 18-year-old bent down, pressing his lips against Lacey’s as she grabbed at his collar, pulling him closer, pressing him harder against her body, and Keith felt sick. He let out a shaky breath, clenching his fist, pressing it harder against the wall behind him as he tried to pull his eyes away from the scene, as he tried to look away. _I have a girlfriend._

            Lance wrapped his arms around her waist, ghosting a hand up her body gently, running his fingers through her hair as he pressed his lips once more against hers. Lacey opened her eyes, glancing towards Keith as she pressed her hand against the younger boy’s neck, grinning slightly as Lance trailed down her cheek, jaw, neck; and Keith forced his head against the wall behind him, locking his knees, swallowing harshly against the weight sitting in his stomach. He couldn’t compete. He would never be able to compete. Fuck, he wasn’t even in the same league.

            Lacey pushed Lance away playfully, letting her hand fall from his grasp as he shoved his way passed a couple making their way sloppily up the stairs. Keith let his eyes follow the younger boy until he disappeared past the kitchen doorway, and he turned his attention back towards Lacey. He cleared his throat softly as he noticed she was staring at him… intently. It was uncomfortable, and it made him feel nervous.       

            She snorted slightly as she pulled out her phone, “You know you don’t stand a chance with him, right?”

            “Ex-excuse me?” Keith said, pushing away from the wall as she glanced up, grinning. She ran a hand through her hair, letting the long blonde strands fall from her fingers lazily, before glancing back down at her phone again. She sighed, “It’s pathetic, actually. The way you chase after him, like he could ever be with someone like you… Look, Brad told me what actually happened, and I can’t believe you did that to him. Like I said, it’s pathetic.”

            Keith’s breathing caught in his throat as he glanced towards the spot Lance had been just minutes ago, then towards a few people in the living room. Despite the loud music echoing off the walls around him, he felt like the whole damn room was tuning in on their conversation, he felt like everyone was listening, that everyone knew… Was it that fucking obvious?

              _…The 17-year-old bit his lip harshly as tears threaten to spill down his face, “P-please, don’t do this!”_

_The older boy laughed, pushing Keith against the wall harshly as the music changed in the other room, “Do what, huh? I was just using you. I mean, it’s not like someone like me could ever be with someone like you. You’re pathetic… You meant nothing to me, Keith. You should leave before you embarrass yourself.”_

_The older boy turned to leave, and Keith reached out, grabbing his hand tightly as the other boy shook him off harshly. Concern flashed across his face briefly as Keith slumped against the wall, and for a moment, just one split moment, the 17-year-old caught a glimpse of the boyfriend he used to have. Keith swallowed thickly, “Please. It’s not my fault.”_

_The other boy scoffed, shaking his head quickly, “Go home, Keith. You’re drunk.”_

_The teenager watched as the older boy left, slamming the door behind him, cutting him off from the rest of the party filled with intoxicated horny teenagers, leaving Keith alone as he pressed his head against the wall behind him. He gulped loudly, swallowing against the nausea bubbling in his stomach as he tried to hold onto anything he could to keep him from drowning, to keep him from falling, from breaking… again…_

            “I- I don’t,” Keith started, running a shaky hand through his sweaty hair, glancing back towards Lacey as she scoffed, “I’m sure you don’t, honey. But in case you do, just know, he’s mine. Lance does this thing where he takes on someone every year. Someone he feels sorry for, kind of like mentoring a lost, abandoned puppy that no one wants. Call it charity work if you want. Anyway, by the time summer rolls around, you’ll just be a distant memory to him. So, chase after him all you want but he’ll never date you… besides he has standards, and honestly, Keith, you don’t meet any of them.”

            Keith cleared his throat as green and yellow lights filled the small room, exposing to the world the feelings he hoped would dissipate, exposing to the world the feelings he had for Lance… the feelings everyone in this whole damn room apparently knew.        _How pathetic… Please… don’t do this…_

Keith bit his bottom lip, feeling his fingernails dig into his palm as he realized he was clenching his hand, as he realized he was angry, “You’re a bitch.”

            Lacey cocked her head slightly, innocence filling her eyes as a smirk toyed at her lips, “I might be a bitch, but at least I’m not the pathetic puppy in this scenario.”

            Keith broke eye contact, swallowing thickly as he pushed passed her, running into Lance as the younger boy was slowly making his way back towards them. He gave Keith a confused look before glancing down at the liquid splashed against his shirt, and the older boy shoved passed him roughly. _You’re a fucking idiot, Kogane. I thought we could be friends… You seemed cool._ He reached in his pockets, hoping, begging that his earbuds were somewhere in them, tangled in an unbelievable mess because right now, he needed something, anything to take his mind off Lance. He needed to leave, one way or another, because everything was too much right now. He felt exposed, embarrassed, and stupid. Lance was just a guy… an unavailable guy, and Keith? Keith was just some moron in the way.

            The music around him changed and Keith found himself being shoved in every direction as people around him tried their best to recreate what seemed to be a poorly planned mosh pit. Keith shoved a guy against a wall forcefully, hearing the guy curse loudly, and he turned to apologize before pushing passed some couples making out on the couch. He needed to leave, to get some fresh air, he needed a distraction, and the fact that he didn’t have his phone, or earbuds wasn’t helping the feeling crashing over him. He needed to escape. Otherwise… otherwise, he was going to lose it. Fuck, he was losing it… every fucking time he saw Lance, he was losing it. And it was his own damned fault. He couldn’t help it. _You’re in too deep, Kogane. He’s going to hurt you, and you’re going to let him… I know you don’t have many friends._

            Keith forced his jacket tighter around himself as he pushed his way towards the door, feeling people’s eyes on him as he tried to choke down what little air made it past his lips. He needed to get out of here, away from everyone, away from this school, away from Lacey, and the hell away from Lance. What was he even doing here? Trying to chase after a boy he should clearly hate, after a boy who was clearly taken. _You trying to get with my girl, Kogane? God, you’re such a pain in my ass… You’re my fucking problem, you fucking fair-_

            The 19-year-old swallowed loudly, shoving the heavy door forcefully, breathing deeply as brisk night air filled his lungs, reminding him that he was okay. Reminding him that he was still alive. Reminding him that this didn’t really matter. _You know you don’t stand a chance with him, right? How pathetic… you’re pathetic, and you weren’t worth a whole year._

“Keith!”

            The teenager bit his bottom lip, and continued walking, trying his best to ignore Lance’s voice as he called his name again. Right now, in this moment, this exact moment, the last thing he wanted was to see him, to talk to him, to explain to him the feelings living inside him, the ones he was pretty sure were going to eat him up inside, the reason he left. He didn’t need this. Not now, not again. He shoved passed a guy drinking some type of cheap beer, kicking at some leaves littering the ground as he heard heavy footsteps running after him, and the 19-year-old cursed inwardly. He paused, stilling as his foot collided with the first part of hard concrete as he waited for Lance to catch up... it was pointless to leave because the younger boy would just follow him.

            “Keith! Where are you going, man?” Lance asked, pausing briefly as he sucked in a harsh breath. He bent over momentarily, catching his breath before glancing back up at the older boy. Keith pushed his hands in his pockets, pulling his red jacket closer as he turned towards Lance, shrugging his shoulders. He raised an eyebrow as he glanced behind the older boy, towards Lacey standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked mad. Good. _At least I’m not the pathetic puppy in this scenario… so it meant nothing then, Mullet? That’s good to know…_

            Lance smirked slightly, straightening his posture, “Ah, come on, dude, don’t be like that.”

            Confusion crossed Keith’s face as he focused his attention back towards Lance. Saddened anger washing over him in embarrassing waves, and he wished Lance would leave. He wished Lance would leave him alone. He cleared his throat, swallowing against the sick feeling in his stomach, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse. He ran a hand through his messy black hair, “What are you talking about? I just- Lance, I just have a lot of studying to do and midterms start tomorrow, so honestly, I should probably be focusing on-” 

            “It’s because of Lacey, right?” Lance asked flatly. He crossed his arms, the goofy smirk on his face morphing into a solid frown, and Keith coughed slightly. He sighed loudly and shook his head as wind rushed past them, forcing the plastic cups littering the ground to glide through the grass in a chaotic rush. Someone yelled from across the street, and a beer bottle fell from one of the branches beside them, and the 19-year-old resisted the urge to look up. Keith shivered harshly, realizing that the dread feeling weighing in his stomach wasn’t from Lacey… it was from Lance. He swallowed thickly, fighting against the sick feeling once again bubbling in his stomach as anger coursed through his veins. _You’re going to lose it. You’re going to lose it. You’re going to-_

            “See, Mullet, I knew you would do this,” Lance said, shaking his head slowly. Keith froze, gritting his teeth, “What are you talking about, McClain.”

            Lance sighed, running a hand through his hair as he straightened his posture again, glancing behind him briefly before turning back towards the older boy, “Look, man. I can’t help it if you have feelings for me, just like I can’t help it if I don’t have the same feelings for you. It’s not my fault.”

            Keith scoffed softly as a lump threatened to form in his throat and he turned to his left, pulling his jacket closer, watching Hunk and Shay making out against Hunk’s shitty yellow car. _I thought we could be friends._ He nodded slowly before turning back towards Lance, “Wow. You know what? Screw you, McClain. Screw you, and everything about you. You, you and Lacey- you deserve each other.”

            Lance bit his lip as Keith turned to leave, “Keith, listen, that’s not what I m-”

            Keith pushed him away slightly, “No. You’re fucking with my mind, Lance. And I’m done. I can’t do it anymore. Clearly, we can’t be friends, so I think we should go back to being rivals, or whatever it is you called us.”

            “Keith,” Lance reached for him again, putting his hand on the older boy’s shoulder as Keith shook him off, feeling tears welling in his eyes and he wiped at them roughly with the sleeve of his jacket, laughing slightly, “And you know, you know what the most pathetic thing is? Every time, every fucking time we’re together, I think, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t say something stupid. Maybe you wouldn’t ruin it… fuck, maybe, there was one guy at this school who I could actually-”

            “That’s not my fault. Maybe if you weren’t so uptight all the damn time, then other guys would actually enjoy being around you… I can’t help it that the only guy here who seems to give a fuck about you is Brad. Maybe you should go chase after him instead,” Lance said, stepping forward as Keith stepped back, snorting forcefully. Keith clenched his fists tightly, feeling anger flowing through him as he realized Lance knew, “There you go. Congratulations, Lance. You’re officially an asshole. Why don’t you go back to that girlfriend of yours; I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to help you with your sleeping problem.”

            Lance nodded slowly, anger flashing across his face briefly and Keith glanced down to see the younger boy’s hands balled into fists. He smirked slightly, “You going to hit me, McClain? Do it then. Let some of that anger out, because from what I hear, you’ve been off your meds lately. I’m sure it’d feel good to take it out on someone else.”

            The younger boy glanced down at his hands, swallowing quickly before straightening his fingers, pressing a shaking hand against his thigh, “You know, Lacey told me what you did- to Brad, in high school. That’s fucked, man. Even for you. Maybe if you loosen up every once in a while, then you wouldn’t have so much anger coursing through you… maybe someone at this fucking school would actually want to be with you then.”

            “Is that what you think? That’s my problem, then? I’m just the uptight asshole who needs to loosen up. You know, maybe you should look in the mirror, Lance, because I’m not the one with the girlfriend and family issues,” Keith said slowly, pulling his hoodie over his head. He wished Lance would leave, he hoped Lance would leave… otherwise he was going get hit; something, someone was going to get hit because Keith was losing it. He sucked in a slow breath as he leaned against the tree next to him, willing, wishing his fucking feet would move. He didn’t need this, he didn’t need to take this… normally, he would’ve already done something stupid… but hitting Lance, fuck, the idea of hitting Lance, hurt more than the words spilling past the younger boy’s lips.

            Lance pulled his arms over his chest, shivering slightly, “You know what, Mullet? We’re done. I can’t be friends with you anymore. So, stop trying to get with me. Go fuck Brad or someone. Because maybe then, you wouldn’t be such an uptight jerk.”

            Lance turned, wincing slightly as the words left his mouth and he heard Keith mutter, “Fuck you, Lance.”

        ……………………………………………………………………………………………………

             Lance pressed his back harder against the ugly wooden wall behind him, letting his legs slide out in front of him until he was sitting on the ground, his long legs blocking people’s paths, making them trip drunkenly. He closed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as his fingers glide over the rubber bands on his wrist, and he bit the inside of his lip. He sighed loudly, banging his head against the wall behind him as the music changed and someone kicked at his ankle. _Congratulations, Lance… you’re officially an asshole._

            The 18-year-old swallowed, blinking slowly as the room came back to him in a fuzzy blur, and the night’s events crashed over him. He was a fucking jerk… no, he was beyond a jerk. He was an asshole. Keith was right.

            His eyes scanned the crowd slowly, trying to peer past the dimly lit room, trying to make out a familiar face as anger washed over him. He needed someone right now, anyone… and the one person who probably wouldn’t have minded staying with him, currently thought he was the biggest asshole in the world. Lance swallowed thickly, staring down at his wrists as he tried to think about anything, anything except what he had done, what he had done to Keith- what he had done to himself.

            He pulled his left leg up, resting it against his chest as he spotted Lacey making out with some guy across the room, and bit his bottom lip. The truth was, Lance knew. He knew about Lacey, knew she screwed around, knew she only cared about him as a possession, a prize… and nothing more. So, walking in on her and some guy after fighting with Keith, really hadn’t been that much of a shock to him… but it still hurt. Maybe he never really cared enough about her either, that’s why he never broke up with her… then again, maybe it’s because he never cared enough about himself to end it with someone who didn’t care for him. _You think this is normal?_

            Lance glanced at an abandoned cup sitting next to him, picking it up slowly before grimacing at the liquid sitting inside it. It didn’t look like alcohol… which was… unfortunate. He groaned loudly, throwing the cup next to him, running his hands over his face slowly. He leaned his head against the wall once more, hoping the small amount of alcohol swimming in his stomach was enough to get him drunk because right now, that’s what he needed, and he was too damn lazy to get up and grab another cup of spiked punch.

            _…Lacey scrambled for her clothes, pulling her blue shirt over her head quickly, giving Lance a nervous laugh as the guy she had been under just moments ago ran for the door. Lance nodded slowly, letting his tired mind catch up to the events in front of him. He swallowed thickly as he turned towards the closing door, listening to some people cheering outside as the guy pushed his way passed the crowed hallway._

_“Lance,” Lacey started, and the 18-year-old turned back to see his girlfriend was standing in front of him, her big green eyes fixed on him. She reached down, her hands grasping Lance’s shaking ones, and Lance resisted the urge to push her away. He knew… he always knew, and yet…_

_He stepped back slowly until his hip collided with the desk pressed against the wall, shaking his head. He forced his hands in his jean pockets as Jamie flashed across his mind, as Lacey stepped forward. She took a slow breath, “Lance, baby, this isn’t-”_

_“No, Lace,” Lance cut her off softly, running a quick hand over the back of his neck. She stopped, folding her arms over her inside-out shirt, “W-what?”_

Lance felt someone nudge his ribs harshly and he opened his eyes, turning to his right to find Allura sitting next to him. He smiled gently, accepting the plastic cup she was holding out for him before turning back towards the crowded living room. Allura took a slow drink before tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and clearing her throat, “Hey. Isn’t that your girlfriend?”

            Lance snorted, pressing the cup against his mouth forcefully before draining its entirety and crushing the cup against the floor, “Not anymore.”

            “Oh,” Allura said softly.

            The teenager leaned his head back against the wall once more as Jamie flashed across his mind, and he swallowed thickly as nausea washed over him. He ran a hand through his brown hair, watching Lacey continue to make out with the naked guy from earlier, and briefly closed his eyes. _Jamie smirked slightly, throwing some sand in Lance’s direction before signing, ‘There isn’t anyone at this school you like?’_

“So, where’s Shiro?” Lance cleared his throat, turning towards Allura, watching her take another sip from her cup. She coughed slightly before smirking, “He’s at work. There was a competition tonight and he said he’d help out. I actually have to pick him up in an hour.”

            Lance raised an eyebrow, “So, your cup…?”

            Allura shook her head, laughing loudly, “Only water, Lance. Thanks for the concern though.”

            She turned towards him, smiling gently, taking another drink. She ran a hand through her hair, placing her cup on the floor next to her before pulling the white strands into a messy bun. She sighed loudly, pushing her legs out in front of her, crossing her ankles before turning back towards Lance, another smile crossing her face, “Can I tell you something?”

            Lance hesitated, confusion etched on his face as he turned back towards the room. The music changed, and several people started cheering as one guy attempted to stage jump off a rather old-looking table. He failed miserably and crashed to the ground; Lance nodded.

            “I think- I think Shiro’s going to propose to me… in New York,” She said slowly. Lance swallowed, his fingers shaking slightly as he fumbled with the zipper on the bottom of his jacket, “Ah.” _I’m going to ask her to marry me. Over Spring Break- when we’re in New York… Lance, honey, you survived the hardest thing in the world. You survived yourself… shit._

            Allura nudged his shoulder slightly causing Lance to flinch, “I just have this… feeling, you know?”

            Lance nodded again, biting his lip, crossing his arms over his chest, pressing his hands harder against his side, letting his fingernails dig into his shirt, into his flesh. He took a slow breath as he tried to concentrate on what Allura was saying, on the party surrounding him, on anything besides the stupidity he had caused less than two hour ago. He didn’t want to be here, anywhere… he didn’t want to be surrounded by people. He just wanted to get drunk. He needed it. _You survived yourself, you survived yourself._ Lance glanced down at the dark lines etched across his wrist, his eyes darting across the multi-colored bands lining his skin. _You survived-_

            “Lance?”

            Lance looked up slowly, realizing he had been spacing out again. He swallowed thickly, “Hm?”

            Allura gave him a concerned look before clearing her throat, “Where’s Keith?”

            Anger flooded the 18-year-old’s mind as he was reminded that he yet again had fucked with someone, that he had fucked up another relationship he was so desperate to keep. If he had thought Keith had had the problem of pushing people away, then what did that make him? He leaned his head against the wall, shivering slightly as the door next to them opened, letting in the chilly midnight air. He shrugged his shoulders, picking at the red band on his wrist, “How the hell should I know? Ask Brad. That guy always seems to know where he is.”

            “That’s not funny, Lance.”

            The teenager winced, turning back towards Allura, biting his lip as a seriousness washed over her features and suddenly he felt like a little kid being scorned for something wrong. Lance swallowed, pressing his head harder against the wall behind him, trying his best to disappear, wishing he would, before making an attempt to stand, “I wasn’t trying to be funny. Look, Allura, I don’t mean to be rude, but-”

            “You… really don’t know, do you?” She asked cautiously, scooting closer to Lance as the teenager made a move to stand. She grabbed his wrist gently, pulling Lance back down, biting her lip as the 18-year-old fell against the ugly wall with a loud _thwack_. Something was wrong, off, about Lance- he wasn’t acting like himself, and yet, the fact that Lance didn’t really seem to give a fuck about anyone right now, was worrisome. But…

            Allura held her drink out, hoping Lance would take it as a peace offering. The teenager eyed it carefully before reaching for it, taking a long sip. He didn’t hate Allura, hell, he rarely met anyone he didn’t like… even Keith. But right now, right here, the only thing Lance wanted was to be alone. The thoughts and feelings were returning, he was having a hard time concentrating and the fact that tonight had been a rollercoaster of emotion of his own doing, wasn’t helping him at all. So, yeah, Lance didn’t hate anyone… he only hated himself.

            He swallowed slowly, letting the cool water coat his dry throat, pretending and wishing it was something stronger, “What are you talking about?”

            Allura bit her lip, questions reeling in her mind as she tried to figure out if he had done something, or if he was about to. She knew he had been off lately, she knew Hunk was worried because that was all Shay ever talked about at work… but, he didn’t want to talk about it and she didn’t want to pry. She cleared her throat, “They used to date.”

            Lance choked, the water that had been drowning his mouth forcing its way down his throat roughly, some spewing past his lips as he turned towards Allura, coughing, “What? Who?”

            “Keith and Brad… in high school, they dated,” She said slowly, grimacing slightly as she wiped some water off her shirt, “That guy Shiro was talking about- the one that fucked Keith up… that was Brad… He outed Keith, in front of the whole school, told him he was pathetic, told him he never really wanted to date him, called him names, said things. I mean, Brad destroyed him- all because he didn’t want the school to know that the Captain of the football team was dating a guy.”

            Lance closed his eyes briefly, guilt washing over him, mixing with the little alcohol sitting in his stomach, making him feel nauseous. Sick and wrong; and the teenager bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to keep his composure, as he tried to keep from breaking. _Congratulations, Lance… You’re just an asshole… Go fuck Brad, he’s the only guy who seems to give a fuck about you._

He hadn’t known. Honestly, he’d thought Keith had outed Brad- at least, that’s what Brad had told them, that’s the way it had come across. In Brad’s eyes, he had done nothing wrong, he was innocent, the victim, and Keith had been the monster, had been the one to out Brad, all because he was jealous. But, if that wasn’t true… then… _Go fuck Brad._

“I mean, Lance, you saw the small-town they grew up in,” Allura continued, taking the cup from Lance and pausing momentarily to take a drink, “Now imagine moving there when you’re 12, covered in- well, you know about the accident… let’s just say, it took a while for Keith to finally fit in; and a lot of that had to do with Shiro. But Keith- he wasn’t, wasn’t always so closed off, so uptight, so cold. Hell, he used to be this cool adorkable guy. But after- after that night, Lance, that stupid town only saw him as a 17-year-old gay kid. Well-”

            “I have to go,” Lance cut her off, pushing himself from the floor harshly and swaying slightly as the room spun. He blinked a few times, his vision clearing before shoving his way past several people, trying his best to make it to the door only a few feet away. He needed some fresh air. He needed to clear his head, to convince himself that he wasn’t just another asshole who had fucked Keith up. To convince himself that all of this, the fighting with Keith, breaking up with Lacey, alienating someone he felt something for, hadn’t been for any other stupid reason besides him being scared. _Lance smiled nervously before turning towards Jamie. He sighed slowly before signing, ‘I have something to tell you, J.’ …You think kissing boys is normal?_

Lance ran a shaky hand through his hair, taking a deep breath, breathing in the overpowering smell of cheap alcohol and sweat as he nudged the door open slowly. _Go fuck Brad. What’s with you, Mullet? Go fuck Brad._ The air hit his face harshly, and the 18-year-old blinked several times, letting his vision readjust to the crowd of wild college kids drunkenly wrestling on the front lawn. He was an idiot. He had been stupid, and because he was looking for any reason, any excuse he could find to convince himself that he needed to stay away from Keith, he was willing to blindly believe Brad. He really should have known.

            The teenager stood there for several minutes, leaning against the wooden door frame, his mind reeling with questions he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer. Questions he was scared to answer, scared to ask…

            _…Lance bit his bottom lip as he felt the older boy shift closer, his pulse racing as Keith’s fingers stopped at the bottom of his neck, his thumb resting lightly on his collar bone. Lance shivered. His eyes darted towards Keith’s lips, resisting the urge to lick his own as the 19-year-old inhaled. The wooden floorboards on the Castle’s floor groaned in protest as Keith inched closer, his hand trailing down Lance’s neck, stopping over his chest, his palm pressed against his heart. His mind flooded with millions of thoughts, millions of questions he didn’t have the answers to, and yet one thought stood out among the rest. Do it, Mullet…_

            There was no way in hell Lance McClain liked Keith. No way he had feelings for him, for a… Then again… _I have something to tell you, Jamie… I like Derek. You think kissing boys is normal? There’s no way someone could love you after what you did, what you’ve done. I thought we could be friends…_

Lance pressed his head harder against the door, inhaling slowly as he tried to remember how to breathe properly. He knew something was there… that when he hung around Keith, he felt something. Something he couldn’t place; the same feeling he felt when he was talking with Keith’s mother in the kitchen, when he was reading the note on the back of the picture, when he felt like he was drowning, and Keith was there. Keith was always there, and that stupid sick feeling flooding his stomach always returned. That’s why Lance wanted to avoid him, that’s why he came up with any excuse he could to avoid him, because there was something about that feeling, something about Keith that made Lance stupid, that made him nervous, made him feel sick.

            The 18-year-old swallowed loudly, closing his eyes briefly as he tried to clear his mind. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, and he clenched his fist against his thigh as he tried to figure out what to do, to figure out what he felt towards Keith. He took a deep breath, opening his eyes once again towards the group of drunk college kids trying to wrestle each other, slamming each other against the ground before collapsing in a heap of laughter. _Go fuck Brad._

            Lance had fucked up. No, he had done more than that… and he needed to make things right before he lost Keith forever. Before the older boy saw the real him, before the older boy decided he didn’t want to be friends with him anymore. Lance needed to fix this, so he could figure out what he wanted.

            The teenager pushed away from the door cautiously, taking a steady step off the porch, letting his body revel in the falling feeling of stepping off the ledge before making his way into the front yard. He wasn’t even sure if Keith was still here… he didn’t expect him to be, honestly. But, then again, there was alcohol here, and if Keith was anything like Lance, he’d want to forget. Everything.

            Lance made his way around the yard several times, nearly tripping over Pidge who was playing an online game with her brother in the middle of the yard. He walked past Hunk and Shay still going at it on the hood of his yellow Volkswagen and stopped to talk to a few other people he knew, asking if they had seen Keith… asking if they had seen Brad. Lance wasn’t really sure what he would do if he ran into Brad, but he wanted to make sure Keith hadn’t found him.

            The teenager cleared his throat, pausing briefly as he looked towards a miserable leafless tree sitting towards the front of the yard, smirking briefly as his eyes connected with Keith messing with his red hoodie. He made his way slowly towards the older boy, his breathing catching slightly as the thought of what he was going to say screamed through his head, the thought of Keith not wanting to see him.

            Keith leaned against the old tree, pressing his sweaty back against the wet bark as he glanced down at the purple liquid in his cup shaking in his hand, and he swallowed weakly. He felt weird. Something in him felt sick, wrong, and his stomach was cramping violently, making him feel ill. He let out a shaking breath, putting the cup on the ground gently and placing his hands on his knees as he glanced towards Lance making his way over towards him. He coughed softly; Lance McClain was the last person he needed right now, the last person he wanted to see right now.

           “Keith! Hey,” The 18-year-old started, his eyebrows raising slightly as curiosity washed over him. Keith straightened his posture, letting out another cough, clenching his fist as he tried to breathe through the nausea swelling in his stomach. He swallowed again, wincing as the gesture hurt his throat and he pushed Lance’s fingers away as the younger boy reached out a steady hand, “Fuck off, Lance.”

            Keith let out a small wheeze, his head spinning as he glanced down at the stupid liquid in the cup once more before stumbling away from Lance. He stumbled back slightly, his shoulder colliding against the tree he had been resting against. The 19-year-old shook his head softly, trying to clear his head, trying to swallow down the sick feeling rising in his throat as he took another shallow breath. Something was… wrong. He wasn’t drunk, well, not really. He hadn’t had nearly enough to get him drunk considering he could drink Shiro under the table in high school… but something felt weird, something felt off.

            Lance sighed softly, running a nervous hand through his hair as he took another step towards Keith, “Look, Keith. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know- about you and Brad. And what I said about you being an asshole and everything, that was low blow, dude. I’m sorry. I just… I was mad, hurt, and I wanted you to hurt. And what I said, it wasn’t right. I- It’s just, I think- I might like you or something, mullet. And-”

           “We can’t be friends, Lance. I can’t-,” Keith started, closing his eyes briefly as he let out another small pant. He was trying to concentrate on what the younger boy was saying, he really was… but his chest was feeling tighter, and his mind was beginning to panic as it tried to figure out what was happening. He swallowed again, shuddering as his stomach lurched slightly. What the fuck was happening!  

           “Keith. That’s not…I’m trying to,” Lance started, his eyebrows scrunching together as confusion masked his features. He took a tentative step towards the older boy, noticing the thin layer of sweat coating his face, how he seemed almost hunched over, breathing sporadically. Keith gulped softly, “I-I, I feel sick.”

            Lance took another step forward, his eyes narrowing as he let out a strained laugh, “Yeah man, I don’t feel that great about it either. But, maybe we could just start over, you know? And, I don’t know, maybe you and I could go on-”

            Keith let out a loud wheeze as he leaned heavily against the tree, “No, Lance, I- something’s-”

            Keith coughed roughly, doubling over quickly as his stomach lurched violently, spewing purple alcoholic bile past his lips, and Keith winced again, a strange taste lingering in his mouth. He heard Lance yelp and the older boy crashed to the ground, feeling the wet dew soaking through his pants and shirt as his vision shifted and he found himself staring up at the night sky, his throat aching, burning as he struggled to push air through to his lungs.

            His mind was racing, questions flooding his mind as he tried to figure out what was happening, as he tried to place the taste lingering against his tongue. He felt strong hands pressed against his shoulders, Lance’s face swimming above him as Keith realized he couldn’t breathe. There was no air, nothing filling his lungs, nothing making it past his closing throat, and Keith panted, “L-lance, can’t, can’t breathe.”

            The 19-year-old’s chest burned as it struggled to find any type of oxygen and Keith could feel his vision wavering, he could see Lance’s panicked face, asking millions of questions Keith couldn’t answer. He briefly glanced towards the abandoned cup, the liquid spilling onto the grass and Keith finally understood what was happening. He understood what the unfamiliar taste drowning his mouth was. Strawberries. It was strawberries… he was having an allergic reaction. Something he hadn’t had in years.

             Lance glanced around, yelling for someone to help as he glanced back down, his hands pressed against Keith’s sweaty shoulders as the older boy let out another painful wheeze. The 18-year-old let out a short breath, panic taking over his mind inching towards an attack, painting his face and Lance could feel tears flooding his eyes. He didn’t know what to do. Keith couldn’t breathe, his lips were turning blue, and Lance didn’t know what to do.

              He flinched harshly as he felt warm fingers grasping his hand and he looked down to see Keith’s pale fingers were clasped tightly around his, painfully so. He yelled again, trying to find the courage to push himself off the ground, trying to find the strength to grab his phone… but he couldn’t, he was scared. He had just called Keith an asshole, and now he was going to lose him before he had a chance to apologize, before he had a chance to tell him.

               Someone pushed past Lance, and he looked up disoriented to find Pidge falling next to them, ripping her bag open, throwing the contents on the ground harshly as she dug for something. She turned towards Lance, a seriousness masking her face, “Lance! Call 911! He’s having an allergic reaction.”

               Lance glanced back down at Keith, finding his eyes closed and he froze. Nothing was working properly. He couldn’t breathe, think, move. Dread coursed through him and tears fell from his eyes as he looked over the older boy’s pale face, blue lips, quiet wheezing… _This couldn’t be happening. I thought we could be friends…_

              “Lance!” Pidge yelled, snapping her fingers in front of his face before throwing her computer aside, grabbing the EpiPen that had been buried at the bottom of her bag. She ripped the cap off with her teeth, apologizing to Keith slightly before jamming it against his leg and the 19-year-old jumped, sucking in a quick harsh breath.

               Lance smiled, wiping the tears off his cheeks, Keith’s hand squeezing his slightly before his fingers dropped from his and the older boy fell against the ground once more. He glanced towards Lance, coughing roughly before his body went limp, and silence overtook them once again. Lance glanced towards Pidge, alarm plastered against his face, his hand finding Keith’s warm one once more.

               “Like I said,” Pidge said, glancing towards the crowd beginning to form then back towards Lance, “Call 911.”

 ……………………………………………………………………………….

  _Shiro burst through the red and white hospital doors, Allura a few feet behind him and he turned towards the nurse’s station and began rattling off questions. Lance stood slowly, glancing down at Keith’s shirt and jacket sitting in the chair next to him, before looking back towards Shiro as the older man made his way over._

_A shiver ran down his spine, and the 18-year-old ran a hand through his hair nervously. Keith was going to be fine. As it turns out, Keith always had a reaction to the EpiPen after injected, and even though he could breathe, he still needed to be checked… especially since he hadn’t had an allergic reaction since he was 14. Luckily, Pidge had a peanut allergy._

_“What happened?” Shiro questioned, and Lance winced slightly as Shiro’s voice hit him with a demanding undertone. Lance shrugged his shoulders, looking over towards Hunk and Pidge who stood quickly. Pidge cleared her throat, “He had an allergic reaction. I don’t know to what though. There wasn’t anything with strawberries in it, right?”_

_She turned slightly, glancing between Hunk and Lance as Shiro sucked in a slow breath. Hunk thought for a moment, “No. Pidge, the punch was spiked. Strawberry vodka… I remember because I had asked Steven how he made it, but I didn’t know Keith had an allergy. I would have told him if I knew.”_

_Lance rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as he glanced towards Shiro, who was rubbing his tired face with his right arm. Guilt sat in the 18-year-old’s stomach and Lance shuddered, “I-I knew.”_

_Shiro whipped his head towards Lance, a frown forming over his face, “What?”_

_Lance nodded, looking down at his feet, “I knew. I was going to tell him, but I forgot… We got into this argument, and I told him he needed to loosen up. I forgot to tell him that most of the alcohol was spiked…”_

_“So, this is your fault then?” Shiro said, taking a slow step towards Lance. The younger boy looked up, taking a tentative step back. He swallowed thickly, “I-I’m sorry, Shiro.”_

_Shiro nodded slowly as Allura grasped his hand, pulling him back gently. He turned towards her, before walking back towards the nurse’s station and Lance let out a shaky breath. He felt warm tears threatening to well in his eyes as guilt washed over him in waves of forgotten memories. He ran a hand through his hair, shoving his left hand in his pocket, stealing a quick glance in Hunk and Pidge’s direction before grabbing his jacket on the chair next to Keith’s. He clenched it tightly in his fist as Jamie crossed his mind, as his parents flashed in front of him, and Shiro’s words echoed in his ears, and made his was towards the door. This is your fault then? You’re the reason Jamie died, Lance. You fucked this family up beyond repair… maybe you should stop trying, just like the rest of us._

             Lance had his hand pressed against the ugly cold table in the hospital cafeteria, his chin resting on it harshly. He shivered, watching as he flipped the orange pill bottle in his hand up then down, listening to the stupid clatter of those ugly tasteless blue capsules. He paused briefly, holding the bottle up to the light, counting the number of pills inside before meshing is against the table once more, letting the medication slam against the white top, then orange bottom. Over. And over. And over.

            He swallowed slightly, his eyes darting towards the piece of chocolate cake Hunk had bought him earlier in the night, sitting at the other end of the table, untouched. It looked edible, and Pidge had mentioned it was rather good for hospital food… but the thought of putting something in his stomach, made Lance’s skin crawl. _This is all your fault, Lance…_

            The 18-year-old closed his eyes, letting the pill bottle still in his hand as he listened to the quiet chatter from a few nurses several tables over. He was getting bad again… he could always tell; it was a constant reminder. He knew Hunk was worried about him. The older boy had been hovering for several days and despite the concerned gesture, it was pissing Lance off. He wasn’t invalid, he was just broken, shattered, damaged, numb… he was numb, and the medication wasn’t working like it used to. That happened sometimes, happened every time the feelings and thoughts returned, not that they ever really left… because he was getting worse. The last time he broke, he wound up in the hospital before checking himself into the psych ward. He just couldn’t face his parents, see them, see Alexander… he couldn’t be their disappointment. Their constant reminder. The reason his family was fucked up. The burden. _You survived yourself…_

Keith’s family wasn’t like his. Not even close. Though Lance had to give his family credit, especially his mom, because she tried. Every time Lance came home, every time he talked to her, she tried. And he knew it wasn’t easy… it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be easy to have son like him, it couldn’t be easy to look at him and not see Jamie. Because that’s how he felt every time he looked in the mirror… all he saw was Jamie. A constant reminder he couldn’t get rid of. Forever.

            _“Please, please, Jamie, please, don’t leave me,” the 16-year-old cried, pressing his brother against him, his hand running over the gash on his head as blood coated his hands, running down his arms, chest, mixing with the water washing over their feet…._

Lance heard the chair across from him slide out slowly, scrapping against the tiled floor before coming to a soft stop, and someone sat down. He took a few quiet breaths, shifting slightly, squeezing his eyes tighter together, hoping the individual would go away. He didn’t want to talk to someone right now, couldn’t talk to someone right now… that’s not what he needed. He needed to forget, to get drunk, to force the sick numbness weighing in his stomach away… he needed to be someone else, because maybe then he would be able to live with himself.

            The 18-year-old opened his eyes slowly, squinting slightly against the florescent lights beating against his eyes before his vision readjusted and his eyes landed on Shiro sitting across from him, his arms crossed over his chest lightly. _So, it’s your fault then?_ Lance shivered, his eyes glancing back towards his prescription, his long fingers turning the bottle in his hand, the pills clanging against the thin plastic.

            “Lance,” Shiro started gently, “I wanted to apologize. What I said tonight was uncalled for, and completely wrong. What happened- it wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry I said it was. That was unfair of me.”

            The teenager winced, biting the inside of his cheek as he briefly looked at Shiro before focusing on the orange bottle once more. Shiro had been right. Tonight had been his fault. He was the reason Keith had gotten drunk, the reason he hadn’t checked the punch… he had caused this. There wasn’t a reason to apologize. Shiro was right.

            “I’m under a lot of stress right now, you know? With work, midterms,” Shiro ran a hand through his hair, stretching slightly, “And I’m freaking out about proposing next week to Allura. So, what I said tonight, Lance, I was wrong. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

            The pill bottle dropped from his fingers and Lance watched it slowly roll across the table, his fingers shaking slightly as he clenched his hand, hoping it wasn’t noticeable. He cleared his throat softly, “I told him to loosen up… I called him an asshole.”

            Shiro laughed quietly, “Honestly, Lance, my brother probably deserved that. He can be kind of uptight sometimes.”

            “I didn’t know, about him- him and Brad,” Lance whispered, reaching across the table, picking up the metal fork leaning against the paper plate, meshing the chocolate cake under the hard utensil. He watched the brown icing ooze from the sides of the fork, sticking to the plate in a mushy mixture. Shiro sighed, “It wasn’t your fault. Keith’s grownup; and whether or not I want to admit it, he doesn’t need his older brother as much as he used to… not that he ever needed me much. He’s old enough to make his own decisions, Lance.”

            Lance snorted, setting the fork against the table softly, pressing his head against his hand, his cheek against the cold tabletop. He didn’t have it in him to argue, to tell Shiro he had been right. Besides it didn’t really matter. He yawned silently, letting his eyes droop slightly, his fingers snake across the table to grab the prescription bottle, grasping onto the familiar shape.

            Honestly, Lance wasn’t sure why he hadn’t left yet. He knew Keith was going to be okay, but maybe he wanted to be sure. Maybe he wanted to talk to him. Maybe he wanted to apologize to him… or maybe it was because Lance wanted to know how much damage he had done. He wanted to know if he had ruined their friendship forever… if Keith’s feeling were still there. _I’m sorry, Keith… Lance’s fingers trailed up Keith’s arm slowly as the music around them changed. He moaned softly as Keith’s lips parted and the taste of cinnamon filled his mouth, causing Lance’s mind to flood with millions of thoughts, of questions, and his breathing to halt momentarily. Sorry for this, Lance. Sorry? Why?_

            “Did I every tell you about the first time I found out Keith had an allergy to strawberries?”

            Lance cracked an eye, groaning inwardly as he forced his head from the table. He pushed his sleeves up before running his hands over his face, wiping away the exhaustion, knowing that even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Sleep never came easy, and because of tonight, the 18-year-old doubted it would come at all these next few days. He leaned back, shaking his head slowly as Shiro leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table.

            “He was 8,” Shiro started, cracking a small smirk, “We were at a fair, and I was in charge of watching him while our parents were volunteering. The only problem was, I was trying to impress this girl, and Keith was being your typical annoying little brother.”

            He paused briefly, glancing towards Lance to make sure the younger boy was paying attention. The 18-year-old had started turning his prescription bottle over in his hand again, the pills inside clattering against the ends nosily… but, all-in-all, he seemed to be listening. Shiro continued, “I bought him a smoothie hoping it would shut him up and agreed to take him on the Ferris Wheel as long as he didn’t bother us. My plan backfired when we reached the top of the ride and Keith threw up on the girl I was trying to talk to… after complaining that his mouth felt funny. I’m sure you can guess the rest… and at the time, it was scary because I wasn’t sure what was happening. Now, looking back on it, it was actually kind of funny.”

            Lance glanced back down at his medication as Shiro let out a small chuckle. The teenager knew what Shiro was trying to do, he just didn’t have it in him to laugh along, to fake it. Awkward silence fell between them and Shiro bit his bottom lip, leaning further back in his chair after glancing around the now empty cafeteria. It was a little after 2 in the morning now, and despite the doctors reassuring him that his little brother was going to be fine, Shiro had to wait for him to wake up before Keith could be discharged.

            Shiro sighed, running a hand over his face before looking over at Lance. The younger boy looked tired, sad, and… Shiro didn’t really want to finish that thought as he leaned forward slowly. Every brotherly fiber in his body was on red alert, and it didn’t help that he knew Hunk and Allura were concerned about Lance… that the kid had been off lately, more distant, quieter. It didn’t suit him. In fact, silence looked wrong on Lance. He wasn’t his talkative, perky, asking a million questions self, and it felt wrong, sick.

            Shiro glanced over at the mashed cake next to him, a frown forming on his lips. He exhaled loudly, clearing his throat and looked back towards the younger boy, “They were supposed to retire. This year, actually.”

            Lance paused. His fingers faulted, and the orange bottle fell against the table awkwardly, rolling back and forth several times before coming a halt. The 18-year-old glanced up slowly, confusion etched across his face as his eyes met Shiro’s distant ones. He pushed his jacket sleeves up higher, waiting for Shiro to continue.

            “I was on a date. With this guy named Adam, at the time. We had been going steady for about a year, and in a few weeks, he was going to be spending the summer in Germany, so we wanted to celebrate, among other things,” Shiro said softly, after a few minutes. He swallowed, “In the middle of the date, Keith had called me, crying, saying he didn’t feel well and wanted to go home. Our parents weren’t in town, so I had to pick him up.”

                A shiver ran down Lance’s spine as he realized what Shiro was talking about, what night he was referring to. The teenager shivered, his breathing picking up slightly as he looked around the room, looking for someone familiar, someone who could distract him. He didn’t want to hear the story again… not now, not tonight. _I thought we could be friends._

_…My parents were out of town and Shiro was on a date, but I got sick, so I needed someone to pick me up,” Keith mumbled. He swallowed gently, feeling Lance’s fingers squirm slightly under his, clasping between his own. Keith turned slightly as the younger boy shifted, and Keith flinched as Lance’s arm pressed against his…_

                “He was so sick, Lance,” Shiro continued slowly, “And I was only 16, so I was freaking out because I had no idea what to do. I let him sit in the front seat, hoping that would make him feel at least a little better… and it was raining, hard. Ironically, that had been the biggest storm our town had seen in years.”

                Lance glanced down at the bands on his wrist, running his fingers over the black and red ones slowly, tugging on the purple one. He pulled it back, letting it snap against his wrist painfully as silence hovered over them for several long minutes, and Lance wished Shiro would leave. He wished the story was over. He wished he could leave. He wished…

               “The official police report stated that a truck hit us, flipping our car several times, and because we didn’t have airbags and it was raining, the impact was worse. The old frame had come apart, pinning Keith to his seat so he couldn’t move… I cracked my face open against the steering wheel, my arm shattered beyond repair. And the radiator had busted, leaking fluid everywhere, covering Keith mostly… and this fire started when something exploded next to the engine,” Shiro swallowed hard, running a hand over the back of his neck, “I don’t really remember much. It’s all blurry, and hard to piece together. Even now, I’ll be perfectly fine then something someone said or something I’d seen will take me back there, even for a second… I remember him screaming though. Yelling, crying for me. And I remember the smell.”

_…We were in the car for hours. I-I was in there for hours. Alone… My brother wasn’t responding, and I kept blacking out. The EMT’s couldn’t get through, and there was this fire…_

            “I remember when I woke up, the first thing I’d asked was if Keith was alright. I hadn’t known it had been weeks because to me it felt like hours. And when I saw him, saw the burns and bandages covering him, I cried… I cried, because I felt like I had fucked his life up,” Shiro paused again, clearing his throat. Lance glanced up slowly, his eyebrows drawing together as he let the band snap against his skin before pressing his hand against his wrist, feeling his fingers shaking. Why was he shaking? Lance swallowed, “It wasn’t your fault, Shiro. You-”

            Shiro glanced towards him, “I’m not done.”

            Lance closed his mouth, taking a slow breath as Shiro’s words hit him gently. He felt his breathing quicken slightly as he saw the flash of guilt cross Shiro’s face, and Lance suddenly felt sick. He felt wrong, like he shouldn’t be here, like he shouldn’t be listening to what Shiro was telling him. _Lance, honey, you survived-_

“Our parents poured everything they had into making sure their kids could live a halfway decent normal life. We moved because they couldn’t afford living in the city anymore, they started working two jobs, our mother worked the night shift, so she could take care of us during the day… and they blew through their retirement to get me the best prosthetic Galra technologies made. And, Lance… I hated them, for years, because of that. I hated myself, for years, because I never understood why they would do that.”

            “I wasn’t a great kid, Lance. More so, after. I started drinking, hanging around the wrong crowd when I wasn’t hanging around Matt… not that he was a saint either. But, I got in trouble a lot, came home drunk almost every other weekend, and I got a job, two actually, so I skipped several classes weekly. Hell, I almost didn’t graduate. I’m not the same person I was, and I wasn’t the picture-perfect goody two-shoes everyone thought I was,” Shiro paused again, leaning further in, his eyes holding Lance’s gaze, “I shut down, emotionally, mentally, almost physically, because I couldn’t deal with the fact that I had not only fucked up Keith’s life, but my parents as well.”

            The 18-year-old broke eye contact and glanced down at the scars on his wrist. _This is your fault. This is your fault… you’re a burden to this family. Honestly, Lance, the wrong brother died._ He shivered again, his lip trembling slightly as the words barely made it past his lips, “What happened?”

            Shiro sighed, licking his lips briefly, “Honestly? I got arrested.”

            The teenager glanced up slowly, his eyes drinking in Shiro’s features. He seemed tense, his lips forming a thin line, his eyes hesitant as if he didn’t really want to be talking with Lance about this. Shiro drummed his fingers on the table for a few minutes before saying, “Matt threw this party to mark the end of Senior year and all that. The thing about Matt’s house is that it’s four stories, and they have this pool directly below… Long story short, I was drunk, and decided that jumping off the roof was something that I wanted to do. Right as I jumped, the cops showed up. I was arrested, and my mother was forced to pick me up.”

            Shiro chuckled slightly, “She’s only yelled at me twice in my life, and that was one of those times. Maybe it was because I was drunk, maybe it was because she was yelling me, or maybe it was because I couldn’t take it anymore, everything I felt, everything killing me inside- I snapped… Lance- I don’t think I would be here if I hadn’t told her, if I hadn’t talked to someone… if I hadn’t gotten arrested that night. Because for the longest time, I didn’t care if I lived or died… Keith doesn’t know that.”

            Lance gulped loudly, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat as he met Shiro’s gaze. His fingers ghosted over the bottle, laying almost forgotten a few inches from him, and Lance cleared his throat softly, “Why- why are you telling me this?” 

            Whether it was intentional or not, Shiro’s eyes darted towards the cuts painted against Lance’s tanned skin, causing the younger to bite his bottom lip, pulling his hand back under the table, the green sleeves of his jacket back over his wrists with shaking fingers. He shivered as guilt washed over him and the sick feeling he couldn’t place, returned, sitting heavily in his stomach, and the 18-year-old almost gagged. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. _Lance, honey-_

            Shiro glanced back up, smiling sadly, “Because I think it’s important for you to hear, it’s okay. I don’t think anyone has ever told you that before… and I think it’s important for you to know that, to hear that, because it’s what I needed to hear when I was younger. Lance, for years, I kept thinking, if I had made Keith sit in the back, if I had checked the light, if I had gone slower, if I had dropped Adam off first, if I had kept Keith home…. When the truth of the matter is, bad shitty things happen to great people for no reason. There isn’t anything you can do to change that… And what happened, tonight and back then, it wasn’t your fault. It would never be your fault.”

            Lance flinched, scooting as far back in his chair as he could as he bit the inside of his cheek, blood drowning his mouth from the force, his eyes moving to the empty table next to them. _You don’t know that, Shiro. You could never know that… I lied. That’s what I do… This is all your fault._

…………………………………………………………………………………………

  _…Help me understand, Keith!”_

_Keith choked slightly, pressing a hand against his eyes, stopping any tears from falling as he cleared his throat softly, pressing his hand back against his knee as he glanced up slowly. He coughed several times, trying his best to choke down the lump trying to form in his throat, trying his best to pretend that everything was okay, that he was okay, and that everything was going to be alright… it had to be alright…._

_The 17-year-old glanced towards the disregarded bag of peas, biting his lip as he heard his mother sigh loudly, “Keith, honey, we can’t help you if you don’t let us.”_

_The teenager nodded slowly, glancing down at the dirt caked over his black converse, swallowing thickly. He had to tell them… to say something. It wasn’t their fault he was fucked up. It wasn’t their fault he had gotten kicked out, and it wasn’t their fault he was hurting. He heard his father’s chair squeaking slightly as he wheeled himself from around the table, and Keith winced, knowing they were waiting for an answer, were waiting for anything, something-_

_“I-I’m, I’m gay,” He whispered, his voice cracking slightly. Heavy silence fell over them and Keith sniffed loudly, hoping they would say something, anything… wishing they would._

_“What?” His father asked softly, and Keith could hear him shifting around, probably trying to get a better look at his son’s face. Keith raised his head slowly, nodding, tears falling past his lashes as he looked up, “I’m gay.”_

_His mother’s face twisted, anger turning to concern and worry as she came closer, and she kneeled in front of him gently, “Honey, why didn’t you tell us?”_

_His father nodded in agreement, wheeling closer and Keith closed his eyes as his mother pressed her hand against his cheek, thumbing over the ugly purple bruise coating it. There was more… so much more, and yet Keith wasn’t sure if he wanted them to know. To know how much it hurt. To know everything, like Shiro. He let out a shaky breath, opening his eyes slowly, letting the tears roll down his face, knowing there was no point in stopping them, “We-we were dating. Brad and I. Then, there was this party…”_

_Knowledge or death…_

             When Keith had opened his eyes, he expected to see the shitty dorm walls covered in random papers he had taped to them to remind him that something was due. He had expected to be met with the ugly stain on the ceiling, threatening to force its way through the tiles above at any moment. He had expected to see the old uncomfortable plastic red mattress across the room, an even older Power Rangers blanket from his childhood laying over the bed haphazardly. What he hadn’t expected was three thin blue sheets hanging around him as a makeshift wall, a disregarded heart monitor, and Lance McClain.

            He groaned loudly, sitting up slowly, bring a hand to his head as his tired mind tried to rake through the night’s events to piece together why he was here. He heard Lance shift and looked up to see the younger boy had moved closer, a small smirk resting on his face. The 18-year-old licked his lips, “Hey. You were out for a while. How are you feeling?”

            Keith squinted against the lights hanging above them before glancing back towards Lance, “Tired.”

            Lance nodded slowly, fumbling with the zipper on the bottom of his jacket as the older boy shifted again, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, letting his bare feet touch the cold ground. Keith flinched slightly as the bottom of his feet connected with the chilly ceramic, pressing his hand against his aching chest before looking down, confusion filling his face as he realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He looked around slowly as Lance cleared his throat, “They wanted to monitor your breathing. I guess it was easier without the shirt. I think Shiro has it- I’ll get him.”

            Lance stood to leave, stopping when he felt warm fingers grasp his wrist and he turned towards Keith, arching an eyebrow. Keith let his hand fall, tracing over the tense muscles in his neck and left shoulder blade, rubbing slowly as he tried to relieve the stiff feeling. He wasn’t sure why he had done that. He just didn’t want Lance to leave yet. He wanted to talk to him. To say something… about tonight. _Look in the mirror, Lance, because I’m not the one with girlfriend and family issues… I’m not the pathetic puppy in this scenario…_

            “Lance,” Keith started, wincing slightly as he realized his voice was hoarse, “About tonight, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I’m sorry if I did.”

             Lance opened his mouth to speak, letting out a single syllable, stopping when the older boy put up a hand. The 18-year-old pressed his lips together firmly, his fingers messing with the stupid bands behind his back and he rocked on his feet awkwardly as silence stood heavily between them. He wanted to speak, to let Keith know that tonight wasn’t his fault, that he was the asshole here, that he was sorry, to tell him the truth… but he couldn’t muster the energy, and Keith wasn’t done speaking. Besides, the lecture he was about to get, Lance deserved. _This is your fault, Lance… go fuck Brad… the only guy who seems to give a fuck about you. I thought we could be friends, but maybe…_

             Keith was quiet for a long time, and the younger boy wondered if he was actually going to say something, say anything. The 19-year-old swallowed, looking down at his hands, messing with the dirt under his fingers, “His dad caught us.”

             Lance raised an eyebrow, sitting in the chair next to him slowly as he waited for Keith to continue. He pulled his sleeves past his fingers, pulling on the loose strands on the bottom of his green jacket as the makeshift room suddenly became quiet, and the younger boy bit his lip.

             “Brad’s father caught us,” Keith whispered, “I know you don’t know who that is, but he was the type of man who cared more about image than anything else. And there was this party… I got drunk after Brad dumped me. He was afraid other people would find out that he was dating a guy, among other things, so he ended it. We had been dating for almost a year.”

              Lance felt his breathing hitch slightly. He hadn’t known it had been that long… he figured Keith and Brad had dated for maybe only a few weeks, months, but not a year. Besides, Brad’s story had depicted Keith as a jealous kid who couldn’t take no for an answer. Keith laughed softly, “I was stupid. I thought that the thing I needed the most was to get wasted, to forget, and one thing led to another. I ended up embarrassing myself in front of everyone, Brad made a speech which led to me being outed, his friends enforced it roughly if you know what I mean, and some asshole was recording.”

              The younger boy’s hand started shaking and he pressed it against his thigh as Keith continued. He swallowed roughly, not daring to look away from Keith, who was still staring at his hands, messing with the dirt between his fingers.

              “The next day, Pidge called me and said she had taken down the video. I didn’t know what she was talking about… I didn’t until I saw it. It was posted on the school website, on the front page. Me, drunkenly trying to save a relationship I should have let go, and Brad, well… Like I said, I was stupid… The day after, I was voted out of the volunteer program, the people I hung out with became distant, and my teachers rallied around the whole ‘it’ll get better campaign.’ After that, I wasn’t Keith Kogane, Shiro’s little brother, straight-A class president, scholarship kid, the cool guy with the bike… I was Keith Kogane, the gay kid.”

               The 19-year-old glanced up slowly, meeting Lance’s gaze, “The thing is, I wasn’t the first gay kid at the Garrison… I mean, Shiro dated guys and everything in high school. But, I was apparently the first gay kid to make a fool of myself, publicly. And I was angry, Lance. I was hurt.”

               Lance felt a chill run down his spine. When he came out as Bi to Jamie, his brother had been fine with it, happy even, especially since he started dating his brother’s best friend. But after Jamie- after he, well, Alexander wasn’t as excited to find out Lance’s dirty little secret… and Lance hadn’t told anyone since then, besides Hunk. He was too scared to.

              “The thing is, Lance,” Keith continued, shivering slightly as the cold air kicked on from the air vent above, “You’re not the first person to tell me that what I did was fucked up. You’re not the first, and as long as Brad is around, you won’t be the last… you once told me that everyone needs friends after asking me why I didn’t have any…. And, Lance, the truth is, people find it hard to be friends with an uptight asshole with anger and trust issues, who outed someone else… on purpose.”

_“Because,” Lance spat roughly, “No one likes to be alone… Trust me.”_

                Lance closed his eyes briefly, letting Keith’s words sink in. He hadn’t known that was why he didn’t have many friends… he had just assumed Keith was hard to get along with or was more choosey in the types of people he wanted to hang out with. But given what Brad had told him, given the way Lance had reacted, then Keith’s isolation made sense.

                The 18-year-old opened his eyes slowly, watching goosebumps break out over Keith’s chest as the older boy shivered again, and Lance swallowed. Keith cleared his throat, “And you know what the most fucked thing is? I don’t regret it… I regret the fight, I regret getting kicked out of the Garrison because I never meant to put my parents through that… but I don’t regret the pictures. What kind of sick fucked up person does that to another individual, and doesn’t regret it?”  

                 Keith pressed his feet harder against the floor, taking a deep breath, wincing slightly as he realized his chest still ached somewhat. It probably would until tomorrow… it always seemed to go that way. He pushed himself off the bed slowly, stretching quietly as he glanced back towards Lance. The younger boy looked like he was going to cry, and Keith stopped himself from reaching out, from reaching towards Lance. He hadn’t meant to make him feel bad, hell, he hadn’t meant to hurt him. But… he needed Lance to know. He needed Lance to know that he wasn’t going to chase after him any longer… that he wasn’t going to hurt him anymore.

                 The 19-year-old ran a hand through his black messy hair, wondering how chaotic it looked. He took a small breath, grimacing at the sweat the met his nostrils and hoped Shiro had either brought his meds, or had planned on walking, because he really wanted to go back to his dorm and take a shower, crawl into bed, and sleep off everything before his 9am exam tomorrow morning. Keith put his hands in his pockets, rubbing his big toe over the ground gently before clearing his throat, “Truth is, Lance, I don’t care if you believe me or him, both or neither. I just wanted you to know there are two sides to that story. I’m not innocent, I’m not a victim… but, that doesn’t make him any less guilty than me. I just thought that maybe there was one guy at this school I could actually be friends with. I could actually be myself around. For someone to see me, the real me, and not know my deepest darkest secret. But I guess that was selfish. I should have told you, I just wanted to hang onto to the freedom I felt being around you a little bit longer. But that was my mistake… I was wrong. And I’m sorry I hurt you.”

            Lance met Keith’s gaze again, standing shakily as an apology sat on his lips. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t known the whole truth, and he had caused this. The same stupid nameless feeling returned, and Lance felt weak, he felt broken, guilty, sick. _There’s something you need to know, Mullet… about me._

           “And if it’s alright with you, Lance,” Keith said softly, looking back down at the floor, “I think- I think we should go back to being friends. And if we can’t do that, then maybe we should just avoid each other completely. Because honestly, Lance, I don’t think I can handle anything else.”

            Keith stood there for a minute longer, daring to look at the reaction on Lance’s face, resisting the urge to apologize, to grab his hand, to take away the hurt visible on his face. He had been stupid in thinking that he could be friends with someone without them knowing one of the worst things about him. Stupid in thinking he could be himself around someone without having to pretend. Stupid in thinking that Lance McClain had wanted to be anything more than friends. And stupid in thinking that he had a shot with him. _He does this thing every year… a pathetic puppy… call it charity work. Peppermints. Lance tasted like peppermints…_

Lance swallowed thickly as Keith brushed past him, as the older boy’s shoulder collided with his as he left the room. Lance bit his lip harshly, closing his eyes as tears swelled in them, and that sick feeling hit him full force… except this time, Lance understood what it was. Love. It was love. It was the same feeling he had witnessed between Keith and his family, between Shiro and Allura, the same feeling etched into Keith’s words as he apologized for something that wasn’t his fault. _You fucked up big time, Lance. Congratulations, you’re officially an asshole… I never meant to hurt you, Keith. I’m sorry. I thought we could be friends, but maybe I can’t be… maybe I don’t want to be… maybe I want to be more... Fuck._


End file.
